The Holy Cursed
by Furyan Goddess
Summary: A woman is Dean's salvation. Can she help him deal with the horrors he witnessed in Hell? Can she save him from himself? Rated M for content. Language, sexual content, talk of death, heaven, hell, demons and angels.::Contains spoilers though Eppie 4.10:
1. Prologue

**Author:** Furyan Goddess**  
Title:** The Holy Cursed**  
Fandom:** Supernatural**  
Rating:** NC-17**  
Warning: M/F sexual relations/content, oral sex I'm sure at some point, drinking, harsh language, supernatural content and all that goes with that. Hell, heaven, demons and angels. Spoilers from Season's 1-4, up until eppie 4-7****  
Disclaimer: ** I do not own anything from Supernatural, Dean or Sam Winchester or Castiel or Uriel. If anything is similar, it's either accidental or on propose. This was started before the eppie with the woman that talks to angels so if you seen any similarities with that, it's again accidental. I make no money by writing this or with any use of photos that might appear in this story. Some of my ideas do mirror the shows a bit and I can claim all I want that I had them first, but you believe as you wish, I just hope you enjoy the story.**  
Paring:** Dean/OFC-Claire Montgomery**  
Summery:** A woman is Dean's salvation. Can she help him deal with the horrors he witnessed in Hell? Can she save him from himself?**  
Feedback:** Yes please. I would love feedback and would like to know what you think. This is my first major Supernatural undertaking. Any major gripes, PM , NO FLAMES. If you don't like, don't read. **  
Archive:** VX, all others ask first.**  
Author's Note:** This is 1st Person OFC POV. There are journal entries quoted and one major flashback at the beginning of the story in italic. Thank you to Muddie for beta and Princess_Silence.

** This will run the show up until, and including, 4-7, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester", then it will go AU. It will also deal with the horrors of Dean's decent in Hell that were spoken about in 4-10 Heaven and Hell, but it will remain AU **

*if you would like a list of sources I used, you can PM me. I can't seem to figure out how to post web addresses here.

Thanks

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Prologue**

_**May 15, 2008-September 18, 2008**_

_I found myself, standing in front of a light blue house. There was a bicycle in the front yard and flowers growing along the path. The sun was shinning and birds were singing and I could hear the musical sound of a child's laughter, drifting toward me from somewhere inside._

_It was home. Not mine, but the pure image of the word. Complete with trim grass, a tire swing and kids toys tossed haphazardly about. The only thing missing was the white picket fence, but that would somehow feel intrusive here. _

_I found that I couldn't turn away from the sound of the child's laughter. It was sweet, innocent and __warm. The front door burst open and a boy about the age of four ran out, squealing and laughing as a man ran after him with a huge grin on his face. _

_"Dean, don't forget your helmet." The man said in a stern but loving voice. One that left no room for argument. _

_The boy stopped and his small face fell, only a little bit, as he kicked at the lush green grass. _

_"Ok, Dad." He said and put his helmet on before he jumped on his little blue bike and started peddling as hard and fast as his little, skinned and bruised legs would allow. _

_I stood, frozen, watching the love and joy on their faces. The boy wanted to go onto the street and after repeated nagging, Dad finally relented. As the boy streaked by me, he smiled up at me, but all I saw where how green his eyes were. Green eyes and dirty blond hair. Freckles._

_Beautiful. _

_The man walked over and stood at my side and smiled as he watched his boy ride. Dean asked if he could have his training wheels taken off but his father held steady and refused, time and again. _

_"Oh man, training wheels are for squares, Dad!" The kid groaned and I laughed and shook my head. _

_"He's a pistol." I said to the man and he just nodded, his chest swelling with pride. _

_In the background, I heard the lusty cry of a baby, followed closely by a woman sweet singing. _

_"Sammy's up!" Dean said, all grown up like, as he stopped his bike in front of us. _

_"Your Mom's got him. You can ride for a few more minutes." The man said to his son who nodded solemnly and promptly peddled off. He turned toward me and held out his hand, "My name is John Winchester. That's my boy, Dean."_

_I shook his hand with a smile but my eyes shifted to back to Dean once more. "I'm Claire Montgomery." _

_John gave my hand a squeeze as he smiled an odd, knowing smile. "It's nice to meet you, Claire." He looked toward the house where a beautiful blond woman stood, holding a small baby. She gave us both a wave and John replied to her with a nod. "That's my wife, Mary, and our youngest, Sammy. She wants to know if you'd like to stay for dinner." _

_"Dinner?" I was shocked by the offer. I had just met him, but this was heaven, right? If you can't trust people in heaven then who could you trust. I looked at the little boy who was trying to pop wheelies, training wheels and all and knew I couldn't refuse. "I'd like that." _

_John smiled and nodded a few times, "Good. That's good." With a sigh, he motioned for Dean to come on, "Let's go, Dean. Dinner time." _

_Dean came over to us and looked up at me, "Are you eating here too?" _

_I smiled down at him, "Yes." I watched as his seemingly innocent smiled turned a bit, mischievous. Dean hopped off his bike and pushed it along beside us but the moment the front wheel touched the grass, he dumped it and ran over to his mother and brother, chatting happily for a bit before he darted inside. _

_"He's beautiful." I told John softly as I gazed at the door Dean had disappeared behind. I'd never had a chance to have children. I was too sick and I died too young, but I always wanted a few of them for myself. _

_"He's a handful." _

_I laughed, "I can see that." _

_As we walked, John told me a bit about his son, "He's strong willed and smart, scary smart and does he love. He's a light, really." As we reached John's wife Mary, he kissed her lips and then the brow of the boy she was holding in her arms, "This is my Sam, and my Mary." _

_I couldn't stop myself from touching the boy's cheek. He had an angels face with blue eyes and dark hair. "He's gorgeous." _

_Both parents beamed at me and then we all went inside. Mary laid Sam down in his little bassinet and Dean went over to make funny faces at him. I watched at those innocent blue eyes stared up in rapture as Sam even attempted a laugh._

_Dean buzzed around the house, chatting, making noise, pushing little matchbox cars around and then leaving them where they lie. He stopped and pulled a car out if his pants pocket before he brought it over to me and held it out. _

_"This one's just like Dad's car. He said I can have it when I get older." _

_I crouched down in front of him an picked up the small, black car. "Humm," I said, "looks like a '67 Chevy Impala!"_

_"Yep!" Dean said, "She's a beauty." _

_I choked back a laugh and nodded in agreement. She sure was and oddly fitting his attitude, it would seem. _

_When I stood up, I looked around the kitchen and frowned. It was... dated. The colors and the appliances. Not the new, sparkly kind that did almost everything for you. Simple, mid-grade ones. I glanced at the calender on the wall, July 1983. _

_I looked over and John and he just smiled. "It is what you make it." _

_I thought about that for a while. It didn't make sense. If they could have their reality, this perfect life, then what was I doing here? I had never met these people and I was Dean's age in '82. _

_Before I manged to work any answers out, it was dinner time. We all sat at the kitchen table, John at the head, Mary opposite with Sam's bassinet beside her in reaching distance. Dean sat across the table __from me and I had a perfect view of his shaggy mop and green eyes. _

_I had to force myself to not stare at him. I couldn't figure out what the deal was, why I was so drawn to the boy. I felt, protective of him and all I wanted to do was pull him in my arms and tell him that everything would be alright. I would make it alright for him. Which of course, didn't make any sense because nothing was wrong. Everything was perfect. _

_Dinner was nice, really. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. Roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy. Green beans, which little Dean refused to eat because he wanted more beef. The kid put it away the food, I'll give him that. _

_I helped Mary clean up and was ready to take my leave when Sam started to get fussy. She was having a hard time calming him down and Dean started grumbling about a bed time story. Life, it seemed was the same everywhere. Nights were always hectic after dinner. Everyone scrambling to settle in and get ready for the next day. _

_Night was falling as the crickets began to sing their nights song. The baby wailed and Dean whined and pouted for his own attention. As much as he loved his little brother, he was still hardly more than a baby himself. He needed to be held and comforted, sung and read to. _

_"Why don't I read Dean his story and the two of you can deal with the baby?" I told the couple, who in this reality weren't much older than me. They both offered me a tired smile, each looking more than a little bit relieved, before they went off into the living room to sit and rock Sammy to sleep. _

_Dean reached up and took my hand, trust and innocence shinning in is eyes. I smiled down at him and allowed him to lead the way to his bedroom. I insisted he brush his teeth, knowing that his parents would also and then I tucked him in tight. _

_I checked under the bed for monsters and in the closet and assured him that there was no such thing as monsters. Even as I said it, I felt a chill go up my spine, but I was sure, in heaven, there were no monsters. _

_"So, what book to you want to hear?" I asked quietly and he handed me_ **Green Eggs and Ham****, **_by Dr. Seuss._

_I giggled and shook my head. I opened the book and started to read. _

**"I would not, could not, in a box.  
I could not, would not, with a fox.** **  
I will not eat them with a mouse.** **  
I will not eat them in a house.** **  
I will not eat them here or there.**  
**I will not eat them anywhere.** **  
I do not eat green eggs and ham.** **  
I do not like them, Sam-I-am."**

_Dean giggled every time I said his brother's name and by the end of the book, I was in hopelessly in love with the little guy. The sharp, piercing sadness that filled my heart must have shown in my eyes __because he reached out and touched my face. _

_"Don't cry, Claire. You're too pretty to cry." _

_I gave him a wobbly smile and stood. He was a charmer alright. "Thank you, Dean. Now, you go to sleep and have beautiful dreams." _

_By the time I came down the steps, the house was quite and John was sitting alone, nursing a beer. It was kind of shocked that they had beer in heaven but hey, why not, right? _

_It should have felt awkward, standing in the living room with a man I didn't know. A married man, while his wife and children slept upstairs, but somehow it wasn't. There wasn't any oddness in the air. I felt almost as if I belonged there, like I could have been his daughter or a trusted family friend._

_He smiled at me and motioned toward the couch. "Mary took Sam up. He's teething so he's extra fussy." He handed me a beer and I took a long pull from it and truth be told, it was the best beer I had ever had. Cold, crisp and smooth. _

_We sat in silence and listened to the clock tick for a few minutes before he cleared his throat. _

_"I guess you know where you are?" He asked and I nodded. "Do you remember what happened?" _

_"Brain tumor." I told him and he grunted. _

_"See, most people don't remember, not really. Mary kind of remembers how she got here, but we don't talk about it. There is so much more pleasant things to talk about." _

_He didn't go into details of her death, but from the sound of his voice and the look in his face, it didn't seem like it was very comforting. _

_"This," he gestured around the house, "this is all illusion. Heaven is what you make it to be. What you want. That perfect day, year or hour. Here, you get to chose that perfect moment and live inside it forever." He pinned me with his eyes and continued, "Heaven is different for everyone, but there are a few, like yourself, that ... __wander__." _

_"__Wander__? I just got here. I haven't had a chance to decided what moment I want to live in for eternity." I looked around and sighed, "Truth is, I can't think of the perfect time or place. Life was... ok. Weird and almost random at times. I can't remember what it felt like to be truly free and happy, except for when I was a child. I don't want to spend my eternity as a child." _

_John chuckled, "You didn't just get here, you stood outside the house for a human __month__, and have been inside for two."_

_I snorted in disbelief, "What?" _

_John let out a breath and picked at the label of his bottle, "Time has no real meaning here. A few moments here is really months there, but in hell, it's different. Ten minutes in hell feels like ten years."_

_Hell? Why would he be talking about hell, here of all places? "And you know this how?"__  
__  
__His eyes were sharp and hot, "Because I've been there." _

_Been to hell and back to heaven? How? Before I could ask my question, he answered it. "I clawed my way out, to help my boys, to save Dean's life. Same way I ended up there in the first place." _

_I frowned, trying to understand what he was saying, "You went to hell to save Dean's life?" _

_"Yes and Dean's there now because he made a deal for Sam's." _

_"Dean's in hell?" I gasped softly and looked up. That sweet boy was in hell? "This doesn't make any sense." _

_"To most people, no, it doesn't make a lick of sense, but you know it, don't you? You feel that somethings off. You're drawn to Dean, right?" _

_I smiled, "Yeah, he's a sweet boy." _

_John shook his head, "Not any more. Now he's a sharp, bitter man. One that doesn't remember how to really smile and hides all his feelings inside until they turn toxic and poison him. He loves his brother and gave up his life so he could live. Dean doesn't think that he deserves to live." _

_I felt tears running down my face, "Why? What happened. Tell me, why am I here? I don't understand why you're telling me all of this." _

_"Sam is still alive, in reality, and he's got something bad inside of him, something evil. Dean's gone, sold his soul to a demon so Sam could live. He had one year to think about it. One year to live before he was sent, bloody and broken down to the pit." _

_"One year." I closed my eyes as I heard the words that were spoken to me. _ **You have one year to live. Inoperable. Nothing we can do. We're very sorry. Here are some pamphlets for support groups.**

_"My dreams?" _

_John shook his head, "They weren't dreams, Claire. Images maybe? A link you have with Dean, I'm not sure. I've known you were coming for a while now and I've tried to prepare myself for this talk but I just can't find the right words." He looked at me, his dark eyes burning, "You need to go back, you need to help him." _

_"I don't want to go to hell, John." _

_He shook his head, "Not hell. When Dean gets out of hell, they'll pull you out of here too. That's why you'll never find the peace you seek here, not yet. Not without him. You have to go back and save him from himself." _

_"I don't know what you mean... how can I save him when I don't understand? I don't know Dean, we've never met." _

_There was a knock at the door but John didn't bother to get up and answer it. The door swung open __and a the brightest light I had ever seen glowed there. I heard the flutter of wings and the the most beautiful voice speaking._

_John stood and hugged me tight, "Save my boy, Claire. His life is now in your hands." _

_I blinked as tears ran unchecked down my face, nothing made sense here. I turned to look at the light, making out the shape of what only could be an angel with wings. He was painfully beautiful and I wept when he spoke. _

_"My name is Castiel and I am an angel of the Lord, sent to do his bidding. It's time, Claire." Castiel whispered and reached out to grab my arm. "You'll have everything you need, but don't approach him until I tell you it's time." _

_I screamed as his hand touched my arm and then everything was a wash of blinding white light before there was nothing but blackness._


	2. 1 Meeting the Winchesters

**Chapter 1 Meeting the Winchesters  
Warning: Spoilers through 4-10. Language, talk of heaven, hell, angels and demons.  
Thanks to Muddie for beta**

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I looked at the outside of the dark, almost seedy bar and grimaced. Why did they have to chose a place like this? I always hated this kind of environment. It was a meat market, both men and women on the prowl, looking to get drunk and laid.

It had taken me two months to get to this point. Two months of planning and saving, of scarping and digging. Months of following Sam and Dean's trail and creating false ones in their wake. I had to keep my nose down and clean. I didn't want to tip them off that I was coming and they were used to looking over their shoulder for trouble. I couldn't let the know how close I was, not until the time was right. I didn't want to scare them away, or worse, have them disappear on me. I was in limbo until Dean knew the truth about Sam, or at least some of it. He had to believe and be ready to deal with the truth, of what was coming and of what was already here.

During those months, I've shared his nightmares and feelings of hopelessness. Felt his self loathing and disgust. I've bathed in the love he has for his brother and wept when the pain of what Sam had started to become shredded him. Dean went to hell to save Sam and in turn, set in motion the very thing they were trying to prevent all along.

When Dean finally saw the truth with his own eyes, it was then, finally, I was allowed to approach him.

I pulled open the heavy, scared door and began searching the dark corners, knowing that's where they would be. I strained my eyes to look through the neon and smoke to find the one man I've waited two lifetimes to meet. I knew his name, but I couldn't find the candle to light his face. I've had glimpses of him, in my mind, but all I can really remember are the eyes of a small boy. Green eyes, dark blond hair and freckles. Nothing more. Nothing solid of what the boy would look like as a man.

It was odd, considering everything else I knew about him for certain. For some reason, his face was kept from me. Even when looking directly at a photograph of him, I couldn't quite make out his features. I took a deep breath while my heart hammered as I prepared to come face to face with the other half of my soul.

I know what he'd suffered, all those long months of burning in hell. I knew every cut, every burn that ate into his skin. Every brutal thing he had done to him until, as strong as his will was, he broke. Everyone broke in hell... _everyone_. The evil that lurked there would always find that one weakness in you, no matter how long it took, they'd find it and when they did, they'd use it to their advantage.

A part of me was with him every time he woke up, his heart pounding, body coated in sweat, as fear, hate and bitterness clawed at his stomach.

I somehow knew that he can't stand the feel of hot water against his skin and that he only took cold showers now. I could feel every lie that crossed his lips, every move he made to protect the one person that meant more to him than his own life. The life of his baby brother.

He would suffer the fires of hell again, if it meant keeping Sammy safe, keeping Sam from becoming what he's destined to be. Only now, he started to wonder if he can save him after all. If there really was any hope left that Sam will see the light before its too late? If Sam would stop using his powers to expel demons, sending them back to hell. Or if Sam would wise up and stop sleeping with the demonic bitch Ruby.

Sam was Dean's everything and when he is gone, where will that leave me?

I'm not here to take Sam's place. I'm here for Dean, for when his whole world falls apart once again. When he is faced with the final choice, kill the very person he has spent his whole life protecting, or allow a monster to go free.

I closed my eyes and even through the haze of beer and whiskey, I feel his soul crying out for mine. His silent screams echoed in my head as he cried out for help. For something that has never, not once, came to him since he was a small child.

Peace.

Salvation.

Hope.

I wonder if he can feel my soul trying to answer his call? Trying to show him the light, the hope he so desperately needed.

My eyes snapped open and I turned to see a pair of men brooding at a table in the back. One wore a pissed off look that matched his devil may care attitude and the other scowled and appeared to be a bit worried.

I smiled to myself, yeah, that was them alright. The pissed off one, who I'm sure had to be Dean, lifted his head and looked my way. I felt my breath catch as I saw his face clearly for the first time. That was Dean Winchester. The color of the eyes were the same, the shape of the lips, but that sweet little boy was long gone. Killed over and over again by violence and death.

He was beautiful still, in a masculine sort of way, but his eyes burned me. It was there that you saw what the man had become. In his eyes, you could see the pain of loss and the knowledge of things only fit for those whose souls were as black as night. In his eyes, you see the man who'd been to hell and back and knows... it ain't over yet.

He offered me something of a friendly, leering smile, but it never reached his eyes and I could see right through it. He leaned over and then said something to Sam before they both turned and looked at me.

Sam just raised his brows and while I could see some interest in who I was, it's not the same kind that showed in Dean's eyes.

As much as Dean tried to play it up, the green was flat and bitter. The smile fake and brittle. It was all an illusion to keep Sam at ease, to hide how damaged Dean had really become. I let him look, let him see what I was, who I was and wondered if he would recognized me for what I am? Would he feel the connection we had in heaven. It wasn't real, not for him, but it was still there for me, stronger even.

This was a wounded soul, yet I still could see that small sweet boy that sat across from me at the dinner table, the one that I wanted to pull in my arms and comfort.

Even after everything I had been through, I didn't look that different than any other early to mid twenties chick. I know what he saw when he looked at me. A tall, lean, blond haired woman in a pair of low riding jeans and white dress shirt, black coat, and black chunky heeled boots. I doubt he could see that my eyes were brown as he took in my looks, my clothes and surely thought that I was out of his league.

He'd assume that I was snobby, maybe a bit rich, someone that would look down on him and laugh if he propositioned me, and that alone was the reason he would try.

He'd make a crack to Sam, after I shot him down, maybe call me a stuck up bitch, and he'd keep up the illusion of being a player when inside, he was dead.

But if he looked close, he might see a sharp edge or two that came with the weight of what I carried. From the knowledge that heaven and hell and really bad things do in fact exist. Or perhaps, he'd see the opposite, see the soft that I tried hard to hide from most people, the soft that could get me killed before my mission was complete.

I kept Dean's eyes as I made my way over to him and I wondered what thought was going to happen when I got there. As I reached their table, I looked down at both of them and smiled.

"Hi, boys. Mind if I sit?" I asked.

Sam made a face, pushed out a chair and said, "Sure,"

Dean, who I can tell up close was about two and three quarter sheets to the wind, grinned and offered me a seat on his lap. Even went as far as sliding his chair out and patting his leg, like I was a dog.

I could tell he was going for shock value, he wanted to offend me and drive me away, and when I didn't flinch at his offer, he just gave me a 'your loss' look and took a long drink of his beer.

I just smiled softly and sat down opposite of him, same as I had at 'dinner' just a few short months ago. Dean still seemed a bit annoyed that I didn't just strip and hop right on, even though it wasn't what he really wanted. He was still thinking that something as simple as mindless, unemotional sex would help with the pain he had inside. I knew better because I shared his pain and it was almost crippling to me. I knew it had to be ten time worse for him. Still, I had shot him down and prickled his male pride, he didn't like that, or me, very much at the moment.

Dean shook his head at Sam, disgusted with what a bleeding heart he was and reached for another shot. Before his hand closed over the rim of the glass, I put my palm over it and said, "I think you've had enough... Dean."

Dean sneered at me and Sam whipped his head around fast and narrowed his eyes on me.

"How do you know my name?" Dean slurred.

I just smiled at him again and shrugged, "I know a lot of things about both of you. More than you want me to know, that's for sure."

Dean glared at me and Sam shifted a bit to face me and get better access to his weapon.

"What do you want?" Sam asked, his voice hard as his face lost all openness.

These two were going to be a hard nut to crack, that's for sure. Castiel warmed me that they were combative. Uriel said they were stubborn, thick skulled, knuckleheads. I think they both might have been right.

"I'm Claire." I said and offed my other hand to Dean, who refused to shake it.

"Great." Dean said snidely, "What a cookie?"

"Dean," Sam hissed, "You don't need to be rude."

I found that interesting. Even while Sam was at the ready, willing to fight, he still tried to act polite. It was intriguing and only added to the building differences between them. I could tell Sam was closed off and I wasn't going to get any information out of them at the moment, but still, Sam insisted they remain civil. It must have come from their father, drummed in their heads along with everything else they needed to know to make them the men they were now.

Dean snorted again and rolled his eyes. I almost laughed, if it wasn't so sad. My poor sweet little boy, so cynical.

"Sam, but I guess you know that already. What do you want?" Sam, every the researcher. Trying to find out why I was there and if I posed a threat to either one of them.

"We need to talk, boys." I said smoothly and waited for their reaction.

Sam sat stiffly beside me and Dean's eyes went bright as he tried to move the glass from under my palm. "First off, it's not your business how much I drink." He smiled smugly, "If your worried I won't be able to perform, it's never been a problem before, sweetheart."

It hurt for some reason hearing him stay that. Just thinking about him touching other women when he should have been me all along, but I didn't let it show. I couldn't afford to let it show, not yet.

"Then give me your keys." I said tiredly and hoped that Dean didn't hear the hurt in my voice that I did. I just wanted to get out of there, to sober them both and get this over with. It's been like a sore eating away at me for the last two months. When we would meet, how? What would happen when we finally met up. Nothing was going as planned, not one thing. Dean was more broken than I had anticipated and Sam was enabling him in his own way. Then again, he knew Dean better than me. Sam was the kind to sit back and let Dean come to him when he was ready, I didn't have that kind of time. I would be forced to pressure him into talking and that wasn't going to be pleasant at all.

Dean laughed, "Right, sister. You're not gettin' my keys."

I could feel my control starting to slip and took a deep breath, "And you're not getting behind the wheel," I look over at Sam and then back at Dean, "either of you." I lean in and whispered to Dean, "Are you so anxious to go back to hell?"

Dean yanked his hand and the shot glass from under mine and slammed the whiskey back with a smug grin as he smacked his lips. "Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. 'Sides, they're keeping a room, just for me." He sniffed and continued, "It's nice really... warm..."

My eyes fell to his lips as he talked and I couldn't help but notice how full and soft they looked.

"Dean?" Sam said softly, "Maybe you should..."

"What, Sammy? Stop? Give some random chick the keys to my car? I don't care how cute she is, no one drives me baby."

I gritted my teeth and said, "You're so damn blind drunk I could have warts on my face for all you know. Now, give me the damn keys. We got shit to discuss."

Dean leaned back in his chair and tried to flag down the waitress for another round. "Hit the road, Lady. You're more of a buzz kill than my brother, and that's sayin' something."

It was hard for me, at this point, to remember what he'd been through. What he had seen. I wanted to slap him, but he was drunk and pissed and a whole lot bitter. He had a right to be, I wouldn't deny that, I wouldn't take that away from him, but I sure the hell didn't like his tone.

With the patience I didn't know I possessed, I touched his hand, so large and warm as I slid my thumb under his, nestled it in the warm expanse of his palm and smiled. "You really should watch those endearments, Dean. I don't want to start this out with more pain and anger. I think we both have had enough of those to last several more lifetimes."

Dean just looked at me, his green eyes slightly blurry and burning. I knew he was trying to think, to recall if he knew me from somewhere, from another time, but he was coming up empty.

I looked at Sam and then back at Dean, "I'm not a vampire or a demon, or what ever else you two boys like to play with; I wear a cross and you can spill all the holy water on me that you want and I won't burn."

I shucked my woolen coat and slowly unbuttoned my shirt. I hid my smile as Dean's interest became keen and sharp. I pushed aside my white shirt, baring my upper left arm to Dean, revealing my branded hand print.

Dean cursed and his eyes snapped to mine and for a moment, everything went silent. A few heartbeats passed before Sam started firing off questions.

I adjusted my shirt and buttoned it back up before I put my coat back on. Still, Sam asked question after question while Dean just... sat there... quiet and withdrawn.

"Stop." I said and held up my hand. "Not here. Dean, please, give me the keys. I have a room next to yours, we'll go there, sober the two of you up and talk. We have a lot to talk about."

After a moments hesitation, both men stood at the same time, as a unit, as brothers. I felt out of place and out of my depth with them on their feet. I stood and felt oddly comforted when when they walled me in as we began to walk. Sam was on my right, Dean on my left. I stopped at the bar and got us some bottled water and then we stepped out into the damp, cold night.


	3. Cars, Motel Rooms and Pie

**Chapter 2 Cars, Motel Rooms and Pie  
Warning: Talk of the supernatural, death, heaven and hell, angels and demons. Language. Spoilers from all season and up to 4-10. AU, No Ana, but things taken from those shows.  
Thanks to Muddie for beta and I have added a bit here and there, so if you see a nit, pm me, and I'll fix it.  
A/N: ended up breaking this up into 2 chappies.**

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It was November 2nd and already starting to flurry! I know what the date meant to them both and I know they had a good reason to be in the shape they were in, especially Dean. It was the day that they had lost their mother, the day that their world shattered. It was also that day the innocent, loving boy I had met in heaven ceased to exist. It was the day that the beautiful, angelic Sam got his first taste of true evil.

Life as the Winchester's had known it came to a screeching halt. John lost the love of his life, Dean lost the only woman he's ever really loved and two little boys lost their chance at the American dream.

I looked up and watched the flurries flutter to the ground as we walked to Dean's car. I slipped on a patch of ice and before I could hit the ground, Dean had me in his arms. Our eyes locked and my breath caught for a moment before he let me go and grumbled something about me being more careful.

Mortified, I swallowed and shivered. I wasn't cold until I felt the heat of Dean's hand on my skin. It burned me, branded me as sure as Castiel's had done. Now all I wanted was to feel his touch again, even a brush of fingers, anything. My body cried out for it, my soul yearned for it. Instead, we all stood, freezing, as we waited to see who would drive.

"Dean, give her the keys." Sam implored tiredly.

Dean just sneered at me before he sighed hugely and finally handed them over. I kept my smile to myself as I got behind the wheel where Dean had spent an exorbitant amount of time both before hell and after.

The soft leather creaked and the doors squeaked but the engine purred as soon as I turned the key. It'd been a while since I had driven a vintage car. My father had owned one and the memory was sharp and painful. I missed my parents, missed my old life but I was dead to them. No way to go back and explain where I had been and how I was back. I still had a hard time wrapping my brain around it and I lived it.

I had lost everything that I had ever known for a man I had never met. A man that, obviously, wanted no parts of me. I should have stayed dead, stayed in heaven, even if I did end up wandering.

I glanced over at the man beside me and shook my head. No, I could never let him suffer like he has for the rest of eternity. I needed to save him, for me and for him. Both of our souls were on the line.

With a painful breath, I put the car in reverse and eased her from her parking spot and onto the road, nice and slow. I knew if I hurt Dean's baby, he'd never forgive me.

The hotel we were staying in was only about a six minute drive and Dean sat, stiff and alert in the seat beside me the whole time. Sam sat in the back, his head to the side as he watched the night pass by.

I parked next to my car, a 2009 Dodge Challenger in Brilliant Black Crystal Pearlcoat. As soon as I shut down the Impala, I handed the keys back to Dean who pocketed them with a relieved look. I smiled at him and I really wanted to touch him, but I held back. We're not ready for that... he's not ready for it yet.

"I'd never hurt your car, Dean. I know how much she means to you." And I did. I remember that little boy, showing off his matchbox car. I could see it in his eyes, he couldn't wait to get old enough to drive his Dad's cool car. Now he had it, and nothing else of the man he loved.

Dean's car had been the one constant in his life. The one thing that had always been there. His car represented home to him. A sanctuary.

I turned and looked over his shoulder, "How do you like mine?" I ask Sam with a grin. I loved my car. Sure, she was new and didn't hold the memories that the Impala did, but she was pretty. A thing of beauty as far as I was concerned. Different make, different model, slightly different color, but I loved her just the same. What was even nicer, she was funded from the man up above.

Dean got out of the Impala and shrugged, muttering something about it being 'nice'. I snorted and grinned at Sam. I could tell he liked it but would never admit it, especially standing beside his baby. He didn't want to hurt her feelings.

Sam snorted, "It's more than nice, Dean. Look at it, it's loaded and wow, it even has a CD player. Imagine that?" The sarcasm was so thick in Sam's voice that it actually dripped in the air.

Dean frowned, seriously offended, and petted his car for a moment, "Shh, Sammy, she'll hear you."

Laughing I needled Dean more, "Yep, CD, DVD, iPod. You name it, she's got it."

"Computers fuck everything up." Dean growled and I just shook my head. There was no changing his mind. That's fine... Dean was Dean and I wasn't there to change him, only save him.

_Save him from himself._

That's what John and Castiel said. Uriel said that there was no hope for the boy and he should go back in the pit where he clearly belonged. I'm still not sure I liked Uriel all that much. He is pretty bitter and pissed off for an angel that is supposed to be almost emotionless. His views are kind of skewed and he lived to smite people. I guess that there is a use for that kind of thing, but God didn't want Dean smitted, at least that's what Castiel claimed.

I looked at Dean, really looked. He was tired, I could see the small lines around his eyes. Lines that shouldn't be there on someone a few months shy of their 30th birthday, but they were there just the same. He has had a hard life, an almost impossible one the last few years and I think he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. To fade away to where there is nothing and no one. No one needing his help, needing saved. No one needing his protection. He didn't want to go back to hell, he didn't belong there, but he felt he didn't belong in heaven either. Of course the fact that he doesn't really believe in it makes that one even stickier.

How was I to convince a man that had just spent the last forty years burning in hell that heaven wanted him fighting on their side? Where would I even begin?

"Yeah, sometimes." I said quietly. I looked at the two cars we stood between. It's kind of symbolic, really. The old ways meeting new. "I like the look of the old school, but I love the plush and the gas mileage of the new. How many miles per gallon does that beast get?" I asked, kicking one of the Impala's wheels.

Dean scowled hard at me and I just laughed. "Right, this way then."

I unlocked my motel room and stood back as both half drunken men pulled their guns and did a sweep of the room. To be fair, Dean had sobered up quickly and seemed fully lucid and alert. He must have one hell of a metabolism. Still, they both reeked of alcohol.

My room was fully equipped, so I told them to sit as I checked the fridge for some grub. There wasn't much, I never knew when and for how long I was going to be there.

I looked around the room and my eyes fell to the one king sized bed. It was where I woke up, this very room was where I started living again. I had become attached to his crappy interior and shitty little cook top. It had, some how, become my home base.

I had money, stuff I had managed to put away before I died for reason's that made no sense at the time and some that I managed to squeeze out of Castiel. After hours of discussion about sins, I finally had him convinced that it wasn't practical to do God's work, all the while steeling and committing credit card fraud. The next day, when I checked my bank account, I almost choked, but what really got me, what rocked my core and made it all real was, the account was in both mine and Dean's name. And there was not a penny for Sam.

Clearly, the lines had been draw. Sam would have to do it the hard way, with no help from the man upstairs. That shocked and disturbed me. I had been raised to believe that God never gave up on anyone, that he was there for you when you finally saw the light, but it seemed to me that God or the angles or heaven itself had turned its back on Sam. That broke my heart because I could still picture that small, angelic little baby that cooed and smiled up at his brother like he was the light of the world. Maybe he was, but right now, hope and joy, love and happiness were dulled and blurred while pain and hate, anger and vengeance were sharp and real.

What I had done next went against heavens wishes and it could very well come back to bit me in the ass, but I was doing it for Dean and that sweet angel faced little boy. I opened an account in Sam's name and deposited a hefty sum in it. Dean was secondary and would be able to withdraw the monies if he ever felt the need, but I knew he wouldn't. No mater what Sam did, Dean would never take away from him.

I felt my heart squeeze and wondered, if not for the first time, if I wasn't fucking this all up. I knew that Castiel had to know what I did, but he never said a word, and for that, I was grateful.

Shaking my head to bring it back to the now, I snagged some soda, which Dean bitched about, grumbling about wanting another beer. I had a few, but he wasn't gonna get any. He needed a clear head for what I was about to drop in his lap and by his halfhearted protests, I think he knew it too.

I reheated some pasta and chicken I had left over, and grabbed some bread and butter. I put it all in the middle of the table and chuckled when Dean helped himself. Sam smiled gently and said thanks, which prompted Dean to say it, with a mouth full of bread.

It was shocking, seeing how kind and tenderhearted Sam was when I knew the truth of what he was destined to be. I hoped that maybe he could beat it, if he fought with every breath he took for the rest of his life, but I wasn't very optimistic.

The kind of darkness that wanted him wouldn't give up. That kind of evil was like an oil slick that kept growing and spreading over your soul until it consumed you. With every kill he made, every demon he exorcised with his mind, he was brought one step closer to the darkness.

We all ate quietly, and then I blinked to find both men looking at me and blushed. Dean looked skeptical once again and ready to fight if need be while Sam looked uncomfortable and ... shy?

I cleared my throat, looked at Dean, found his eyes and the strength I need to start telling my tale. "I guess you have some questions."

He snorted, looked pointedly at my arm where my scar was and replied, "Yeah, you could say that."

Sam jerked his chin, "Did Castiel give you that too?"

I nodded, "Yes."

"What did you do, to get thrown in the pit?" Dean asked me, his green eyes full of speculation and condemnation.

I closed my eyes and let out a breath. This was the hard part, reliving it all over again. Telling my story to two men I hardly knew, but they needed to know. Dean needed to know, but it was a risk telling Sam. I also knew that if I made Sam leave though, Dean would go also.

I pushed my plate away, stood and grabbed the lemon meringue pie I had bought earlier and put on some coffee. The whole time I felt their eyes on me and heard them whispering back in forth to each other. I didn't bother to listen to what they were saying, I already knew.

I somehow knew about everything Dean had been through, and that's what had disturbed me the most. All the evil that they had destroyed, all the blood they had spilled to save lives and what did it get them? It got Dean sent to hell and it had the worse of the worst hot on Sam's trial to either kill him or worship him. The thought was sickening. Sam didn't deserve this. That sweet baby that looked up at his brother with nothing but love and innocence didn't deserve the shadows that danced in his eyes.

Dean didn't trust me, didn't really like me but Sam was till a bit more open. He was interesting in finding out what my story was, how I had come to be saved like Dean had been by Castiel. His inquisitive mind would never rest until he knew the answers, whether Dean or I cared to share them.

I dished out the pie, giving each one of the boys a huge piece and poured coffee for them as my tea brewed. Black for Dean, sugar and creamer for Sam, honey and cream for me. Then, there was nothing left to do or fuss about, no way I could avoid their questions any longer. I grabbed my journal and sat back down at the table.

My journal was a black leather bound book about nine inches long and seven wide and kind of beat up. There were quite a few pages in it filled with my hand writing, some with clippings about me and one of them was my obituary. It was in the room when I woke and I can only assume that Castiel had something to do with that also.

With one last long look at Dean, I opened my book, cleared my throat and started reading...


	4. A Life for A Life

**Chapter 3**** A Life for A Life  
Warning: Language, talk of the supernatural, angels, demons and other stuff like that. Talk of death.  
Thanks to Muddie for beta  
Quoted entries are taken from Claire's journal and will be here in italic.  
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_"January 17, 2006_

_I woke up this morning, mostly dead. Yeah, doesn't make much sense to write it or to hear it. I just woke up in heart failure, no signs, no symptoms, no reason. Just with a heart, damaged beyond repair. The doctors told me and my parents that I have a few days, a couple of weeks at the most to live._

_This doesn't make any sense. No one in my family has had a heart issue, especially one at my age. So why me? What happened from last night 'till now that caused this?_

_The amount of damaged I have, the doctors tell me, didn't happen over night. It had to happen over time or from something like an electrical shock, something with enough juice to kill most of my heart muscle. But what? I haven't tried to stick anything in a wall outlet since I was three!_

_I ran three miles yesterday and now... now I can hardly hold the pen as I write this. I should use my laptop, but this somehow seems more... permanent. Who knows, what fried me could fry it and all this would be lost.  
__  
__How do I grasp what has happened here? How do I say goodbye to life? I can see it in Mom and Dad's eyes, the pain of losing. Dad's the worst, but Mom thinks that if she prays enough, a miracle will happen. I don't expect that. Miracles don't happen to people like me. I'm nothing special, just a girl that got a raw deal. There are a lot of girls like me in this world...all of dying before we're ready. Before we had a chance to make a difference or to have a child to love and remember you once you're gone. Guess it's better that way._

_Still, this way is better than cancer or something. At least this will be quick. No chemo, no hanging on for months or years, hoping and praying as I waste away to nothing until I can do nothing more than wish for death. _

_Shit, that sounds so morbid. When did I become so morbid? So dark? Guess death will do that to a person._

_I tell Mom and Dad that it'll be ok. That I'll see Gram and Pappy in heaven to comfort __them. But how could it, their only child is dying at the age of 26 and they're helpless to stop it. Wonder if I'll live one more week to see 27?_

_I always knew life wasn't fair and this just proves it. Damn, I never even had the chance to fall in love...."_

_

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_

I looked up from my book and notice that neither man would look at me. Sam was frowning... obviously thinking, but Dean? He looked ashamed and did he have tears in his eyes? That didn't make any sense at all, then again, nothing really had for years now.

"January 17th? That's when..." Sam said but Dean cut him off.

"Yeah. I got electrocuted."

"They gave you a few days, a couple of weeks at the most." Sam whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

I looked at Dean as he tried to meet my eyes, succeeded for about a second, then looked away again to push is half eaten piece of pie around his plate.

Something was here, we all saw that now. I had my suspicions, when everything came to a head up in heaven, but now they were finally confirmed.

"So, what happened?" Dean asked, his voice thick and raw with emotions that threatened to swamp us all.

The memory of the events, though mine were slightly different, still chaffed. Fear and pain of death still echoed in our heads and hearts. It was a close call, a very close call. I, have yet, to figured out how we lived.

I clear the burning lump from my throat again and read some more.

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_"January 19, 2006_

_I checked out of the hospital today. Figured if I was going to die, I might as well do it at home, right? Mom and Dad took me back to the house, not my apartment. They don't want me to be alone and I'm not sure of what I wanted, to be alone or with them? Guess it doesn't really matter now. _

_I'm dying. _

_There I said it. I'm dying and the only thing I have left to do is see to their comfort and help them deal with losing me. _

_I let mom fuss and I drink her tea and eat as much of her soup as I can but I get so __tried... so tried..._

_I want to close my eyes and float away. The pain in my chest is overwhelming. Each breath is a struggle, each heartbeat is a chore. I feel myself slipping farther and now it seems like a floaty cloud surrounds me. Everything is hazy, washed in mist and white and all I can do is sit and watch the rest of the world... live."_

_"January 21, 2006_

_I woke up from my nap today feeling fine. I feel better than fine, really. I feel... perfect. Whole and strong. I showered and the hot water didn't restrict my breathing. I got dressed in clothes that now hung on my body and didn't feel lightheaded and tired. _

_I jogged down the step to the kitchen, starving, and I think it was my parents that almost had the heart attack. Dad jumped up from his chair, picked me up and tried to carry me back to bed but I laughed and insisted he put me down. _

_Mom, well... she's sure that her miracle came true and maybe it did. Who knows? I feel great and it looks like I'll live to see my birthday after all. All I know is that when we went back to see the doctor, he told me that there is nothing wrong with my heart. That there is no sign that there ever was. He was stumped, all his fellow doctors were stumped but, me, I didn't really care how it happened. I was alive and planned on staying that way for a very long time. _

_My parents took me to another hospital and got a second opinion and that doctor said the same thing. I'm fit, whole and strong. No heart problems at all. He just shook his head when we showed him the tests and paper work. _

_So? What's the deal? Did I have some kind of virus? Some sort of... attack? Was I misdiagnosed? I think I want to know, but have a feeling that I'm better off in the dark on this one. _

_All I know is, as I woke up, in the haze of sleep and dreams, I saw a man. I don't know if he was real or dream but I saw him clear enough, his image burned in to my brain and I had to draw a picture. _

_

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_

"Let me see!" Dean cried hoarsely. He scowled at the drawing and then looked at Sam, "It's the reaper."

"You sure." Sam said.

"Of course I'm sure, Sam. He had his hands on my head."

I took a deep breath and looked at Dean, "So, this reaper, he was after you?"

Dean shook his head, his eyes finding Sam again and we all watched as his jaw ticked. Sam gave Dean a small head shake and I growled and stood.

"Look, I don't really know fully what's going on, I've only got bits and pieces, flashes, but I know what you guys do, ok. I know that there are things out there, bad things. I know that something else, be it heaven or hell, had a hand in keep me, keeping us alive and I want to know what!"

Dean's green eyes settled on me and burrowed in deep. After a few breathless moments, they slid down to my left arm once again and he whispered, "I guess you do."

I unbuttoned my shirt, reviling my tank top, and slid it off before I sat back down beside him. I picked up his hand and put it over my mark I pushed up the sleeve of his t-shirt. I placed my hand over his print and looked deep into his eyes.

The marks were a perfect match, clearly the same hand had touched us both and pulled us back into the world of the living.

"Dean," I said softly, "I'm here to help you."

His eyes shifted down to my brand and his hand before he moved and slid his fingers slowly away. I mirrored the move on him, knowing that he was pulling back, withdrawing inside and he didn't want me touching him. I was surprised that he allowed it for as long as he had.

I shivered at the lack of contact with him and I felt raw and open, more alone than ever before. As I sat there, ripped open and bleeding out, I realized I was feeling what he was feeling.

"Tell me what happened."

Dean cleared his throat and spoke softly. His voice was deeper now than before, sexy. His eyes shifted from me, the mark, to the table and Sam all the way back again. Never resting for longer than a moment on any of it.

"Sam took me to a faith healer, but the healer's wife was into black magic and bound a Reaper to her. The Reaper, or her, I'm not sure which, would chose someone to heal. The Reaper would place his hands on a chosen victims head, take their life and then 'heal' the sick. A life for a life. So at first, he healed me, but then I pissed off the wife and she sent him after me."

Sam, trying to lighten the mood grinned, "Which he's extremely good at."

Dean just pursed his lips but continued, "Someone died so I could live and I couldn't allow that. So he came after me when we tried to stop it from happening again."

_A life for a life. _Knowing Dean, even as little as I did, I knew that would eat at him. Someone else had died to save his life. He didn't yet see that it also saved my life. Two for one, not that it made it any better.

"I lived because you did." I whispered and he looked up at me, both him and Sam did. Dean turned to Sam who shrugged and shook his head.

"I've never heard of anything like this... maybe Bobby..." Sam muttered and trailed off.

"So, the Reaper came after you?" I asked, desperate to understand what had happened. How I had survived.

Taking a long drink of coffee, Dean nodded, "Yeah, a few days later. He was ordered to take my life to save a woman from a brain tumor."

I sucked in a breath and doubled over. What a punch to the gut, a brain tumor, how quaint. It was, after all, what had killed me in the end. A tumor that kind of appeared out of nowhere, just like my heart problem, but this time, there was no magic wake up and recovery. The doctors said that I could have had it for a few years before I became symptomatic and the time line is just to damn perfect.

Sam jumped up and rushed over to me as Dean dropped down to his knees in front of me. "Are you ok?"

I shook my head and didn't try to hide my tears. The irony of it made me want to throw up. I sniffed and tired to wipe my eyes, but couldn't stem the flow of tears. "That would explain the splitting headache I got the next day where I was sure my head was going to explode."

Dean stood up and began to pace the room.

"No, Claire, it explains nothing. This doesn't make any sense. Why would you get sick because of me? That shit doesn't happen, even in our," he pointed to Sam and him, "world."

I laughed, really laughed and cried at the same time and they both looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was, maybe I was really just in some mental hospital somewhere and this was all a drug induced dream. If only I was ever that lucky.

How could I make them understand what it was like from my point of view.

"Dean," I said calmly, though a bit watery. "Dean," I repeated and waited for him to turn and look at me. My smile was soft when I looked up into his face. He was so hard, trying desperately to not feel anything. "Ask me how I died." He shook his head, never breaking eye contact with me. "Ask me how and ask me when."

"I don't want to know." He said, his voice breaking. "I don't want to know."

I stood up and went to him. "You need to know, all of it. Both of you need to know." I watched as he shook his head in denial and a single tear escaped to run down his scruffy cheek.

He was so beautiful and pure in his pain. This was the boy, the man, that felt and loved deeply, wholly. I reached up and brushed that single tear away with my thumb and he didn't move.

"It was a brain tumor," I told him and he squeezed his eyes shut against the truth. "My name is Claire Louise Montgomery. I was born January 24, 1979 and I died..."

"Stop!" Dean demanded quietly through clenched teeth but I shook my head. I watched his chin quiver, "Please stop." He begged me and as much as I wanted to, as much as I wished I could spare him anymore pain, he had to know.

I took a deep breath and felt my own eyes welling up. I didn't want to hurt him, I'd rather die again than ever hurt him, but there was no other choice. "I died May 15, 2008."

Dean's eyes snapped open and burned into me hotly. They almost glowed in the low light, glistened with tears and pain. "Damn you for this." He whispered and tried to shove me away. I grabbed him by the upper arms and held tight. I needed him right now as much as he needed me.

I put my forehead against his and felt his body tremble against mine, "Why are you doing this to me?" He asked in a broken voice as his body shook under my hands.

My own throat was so swollen, so clogged with tears I couldn't speak right away. After a few swallows, I choked out, "I'm sorry, Dean. I don't want to hurt you and I'm not doing anything but telling you the truth, the whole truth."

I could feel the slight change in him, feel that he wasn't pushing me away anymore but gripping me tight, holding on. Not pulling me closer, but holding on. A center, a shoulder... someone who finally understood, really understood.

Sam spoke softly now and I had all but forgotten he was in the room. I could hear the pain in his voice, tight with grief for his brother. These two men ached and bled for one another. How as I going to do this?

"Are you trying to say, everything that happened to Dean, happened to you, in some way or another."

I was silent for another moment as I stood, eyes closed, absorbing Dean's heat and scent before he allowed me to pull back and I nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

Contact broke away and we all just stood, alone, singular, fighting our personal demons as the cheep clock ticked on the wall and the sound of ice hitting the window filled the room. We needed time, all of us, to deal with what we were feeling, with the truth and repercussions of my words.

I moved, unable to stand still a moment longer and I cleaned up the plates, putting them in the sink before I got myself a huge glass of water. After drinking that down, I went in the bathroom to wash my face and pull my hair up.

When I came out, I was shocked to see that both men still there. Sam was sitting in an ugly pea green 70's style chair beside the tacky gold drapes and Dean was on the bed like he had sat down on the edge and just gave up and laid back. I wasn't sure if he was awake or not. His chest rose and fell rhythmically and I could see a hint of his lean, rippled stomach.

Not knowing what I should do, I picked up the journal again and sat on the bed cross legged and put Dean's head in my lap. He didn't protest, just settled in and sighed.

* * *

_"May 4, 2006_

_I think my heart is failing again, but I'm too scared and upset to call my parents. I don't want to worry them for something they can't change. All I know is that after dinner, I had a sharp, burning pain in my chest and now, it won't let up. It hurts so damn bad, like something is clawing at my heart, trying to rip it out. _

_I'm going to go to the hospital and get checked out before I worry them anymore. There's nothing they can do for me anyway." _

_May 5, 2006_

_The way I understand it, I didn't make it to the hospital on my own. The way it was told to me is that I wrecked into a tree on the way here. I'm not sure if I had a heart attack or what, but I hit a tree and smashed my head off the windshield. _

_I suffered massive head injuries and wasn't, once again, expected to make it. My heart stopped, finally giving out, and I was dead for about a minute, then... I was back. I made it. I once again defied the odds and survived the unsurvivable. _

_I should be a vegetable, in a coma at the very least, but here I lay, doped up on pain meds, writing something in handwriting so bad that I'm sure only I'll be able to read, but I'm alive. Busted to shit and back, but alive. _

_I have a broken pelvis and leg, even a broken arm and my head hurts like a bitch, but they say I'll make it... and they say my heart is fine..."_

_

* * *

  
_

I closed the book and put it down beside me. I just couldn't read another entry tonight. I didn't have the strength. Instead, I ran my fingers though Dean's short soft hair. It was a few shades darker than it had been as a boy and I liked the spiky look on him. I eased my fingers down to his temples and rubbed gently.

Dean moaned in pleasure and wiggled his head to get a bit more comfortable. I turned and looked at Sam watching us and our eyes just held. No words needed to be spoken as we came to a silent agreement. We'd both take care of Dean because he needed all the help he could get.

"What did you do to get sent to hell?" Dean's voice was a mere whisper, more breath than sound and I leaned down over him and kissed him lightly on the lips. When I pulled back, he was looking at me with those beautiful green eyes of his.

With a small shake of my head, I told him the one thing that would disturb him the most. "I didn't go to hell, Dean." He blinked up at me like the words just wouldn't sink in. "I went to heaven."

It was Sam that spoke, Sam's hiss of anger that vented Dean's outrage when he just didn't the strength to do it himself. "Castiel pulled you out of heaven?"

I didn't look away, didn't flinch or shrink under Dean's intense gaze. "Yes."


	5. Nightmares

**Chapter 4 Nightmares  
Warning: Violence, hell gore/torture, Angels and demons, talk of God and sin, sexual contact, language.  
Thanks to Princess Silence and Muddie for beta.**

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After a long look, Dean whispered, "I'm sorry." He frowned and I know he wanted to say something more, but what could you say to something like that?

"Don't be. I wasn't ready to be there..." _Not without you_, I thought, but knew it was too early to tell him that so I kept it to myself.

I shifted to pull the covers down, "Come on, it's late and we need to sleep. We can talk more about this in the morning."

With a sigh, Dean stood and reached for his jacket. I looked up at him, hoping my eyes would say the words that I didn't have the guts to speak. "Dean?"

He turned and looked at me and I knew he knew what I wanted.

Feeling shy all of a sudden, I looked away, "I don't remember the last time I slept without a nightmare... maybe if you were here..." I looked up at him but couldn't quite read what he was thinking. I closed my eyes and nodded before I laid down. "Just make sure you lock the door on the way out." I flipped off the light switch by the bed and the room fell into shadows, the only light coming from the bathroom.

I heard the locks on the door before it squeaked open and then shut with a dull thud. I let out a breath and tried, really hard not to cry. I waited a few moments, listening for... something before I threw back the covers to make sure the locks were all engaged.

As I stood, my eyes fell onto the dark shape that stood, alone in the dark. "Dean?"

"Yeah."

I smiled and went to him before I laced my fingers in his and pulled him toward the bed. He sat down heavily and unlaced his boots, each one of them clunking loudly on the thin, crappy carpet. He stripped off the over shirt he had just put back on, but kept his t-shirt on before he moved to climb into bed.

I felt my cheeks burn, even in the dark, "Why don't you take off the jeans too. I know how uncomfortable they are to sleep in."

I heard him chuckle and then the rasping of a zipper before the material thumped to the floor. "Why don't you take off your pants too." He said, his voice husky. It was a dare, to see how far I was willing to go. How much I trusted him.

Could we spend the night, in one bed, half naked and not touch each other? Guess we were about to find out. I shucked my pants and crawled under the covers. I lifted the other side and waited for him to slide in beside me. After some shifting and tugging on the covers we both laid on our backs and stared up into the dark.

"We should sleep." I said quietly but felt my heart race just the same. Fear and hope filled me, his heat and scent enveloped me, making me dizzy.

"I know." Came his quiet reply. I had no way of knowing if he felt the same, even remotely.

I licked my lips and let out a shuddering breath, "I'm always afraid of closing my eyes," I admitted, "Afraid what I might see when I do."

The bed moved as he shifted onto his stomach, avoiding the truth of my statement. I know he hated it too, I also know it was usually his memories that I saw. Knowing that the subject was closed and all talk was done for the night, I rolled to my side, facing him and placed my hand on his back.

He didn't jerk away, which was good so I just stroked him and petted the back of his head. His hair was so soft and silky against my palm. His body was warm and supple and it still amazed me what we had been through.

We were dead and buried. Dead and rotting in the ground. Juicy flesh and worms and other disgusting things that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life.

I woke up on this very bed, but Dean? He had to claw his way out from six feet under. He woke up in a pine box, buried under six foot of dirt and had to bust his way out and when he did, he had found himself in the middle of nowhere. How do I know this? Because when I took my first breath, I felt him take his own, then I felt his fear, his struggle for life. His rebirth.

I trembled, naked and sick as he searched for life, for water, then the ear shattering sounds started. The connection was broken then, once Castiel tried to make contact with him and failed.

Perhaps he thought that if he could talk to me in his normal, angelic voice, than he could talk to Dean that way as well. Dean couldn't hear him though, couldn't make out words in the high pitch sound that made his ears bleed and shattered the glass that surrounded him. Maybe it was because Dean went to hell and I had witnessed pure bliss. Heaven and the perfect existence? But I saw Castiel in his true form, I heard his true voice and it was beautiful, but it was nothing compared to the grief and pain laced voice of Dean's.

Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself whispering to him...  
_**  
"I would not, could not, in a box.  
I could not, would not, with a fox.**_  
_**I will not eat them with a mouse.**_  
_**I will not eat them in a house.**_  
_**I will not eat them here or there.**_  
_**I will not eat them anywhere.**_  
_**I do not eat green eggs and ham.**_  
_**I do not like them, Sam-I-am."**_

He moved then, turned his head to pin me with a look and I felt my heart stop. Had I made a huge mistake? I didn't plan on reciting the story, it just kind of popped out.

"My Mom used to read me that story," he admitted softly, "It was my favorite." He frowned as if the memory had just occurred to him.

I smiled and touched his eyebrow, "I know. When I was in heaven, I read it to you."

That same brow arched, "You read me a story in heaven?"

He didn't believe, not really. "Yeah. Even ate dinner with you and your family. It was all surreal."

"Tell me, please." He shifted closer to me, turned toward me and put an arm around my hip to pull me closer. Here, in the dark, he allowed some of the wall he used to protect himself to come down, if only briefly.

With our faces inches apart, I told him of my experience, of meeting John and Mary. I could see the huge weight slide away when he knew, for certain, that they were together and happy. I told him of his matchbox car and his bicycle. Described the scent of his sheets and hair.

I watched as his eyes closed and his body loosened before his breathing evened out and deepened with sleep. I saw the hard edges soften as years of tension and worry melted away.

I felt contented and relieved as my eyes drifted shut and I too, slept.

_I could hear screams. Blood curdling screams_. _Some were mine, but the rest belonged to the other tortured souls that shared my fate. Pain, unimaginable pain ripped through me. My side, my shoulder and I felt myself suspended in the __middle of nothing as my skin slowly tore and gave way._

_Heat. Fire. Burning. Scents, burning flesh and hair. Boiling blood and fluids. Bones popped and cracked, shattered in pieces, exploded from extreme heat. More pain. My eyes bled as red and yellow filled my vision, blood filled my mouth until I was choking on it, drowning in it._

_Flashes of light, all absence of it. Pitch black. Bright, mind numbing red. Screams so loud my ear drums exploded with them and pain filled my head, pulled more screams from me._

_A voice, disembodied, echoed in my head and I was once again whole. Pain in my shoulder and ribs was still there, but I was all in one piece._

Take me from the rack, _the voice promised. All I had to do was help torture others. Help rip and render. _

_I ground out my reply and it all started over again. _

_I could hear screams. Blood curdling screams...._

_  
_I bolted upright with a small cry. My heart was pounding and my skin and hair were damp. I wiped at the tears that streaked my face and tried to get my bearings. Where was I and who was whimpering. I turned and saw Dean trashing around in bed beside me and everything snapped back in place.

I needed to wake him, to save him from the nightmarish reality that haunted his dreams. I touched his shoulder and he screamed and fought even harder. I pulled back, afraid of hurting him. The pain in the dream had been extreme and intense and it was possible that he was still feeling it, I needed to do something that wouldn't hurt him. Something soft and gentle.

Slowly, I reached out and brushed my fingers over his face and down to his throat. He calmed slightly, which was good because I was afraid that Sam was going to kick in the door if he cried out again and shoot me for hurting him.

"Dean." I whispered his name and moved closer to him and whispered again. "Dean, wake up. It's ok. You're safe. It's me, Claire."

I touched his hair and began to sing to him. I might not have the best voice, but I could carry a tune and I sang a lullaby that I had heard his mother sing to Sam, assuming she had sung it to him also at some point.

Dean's frantic, gasping breaths slowed and his muscles began to loosen. I touched him again, put my hand over his handprint and brushed my lips over his brow. With a deep exhale, his body went soft and loose.

His skin was damp and I could feel, almost hear, his heartbeat through his entire body. He trembled as he fought for control and I gave him his time and kept my eyes off of his.

"Better?" I asked when his breathing evened and he nodded.

"Yeah."

His voice was deeper than normal, raspy and very sexy. Suddenly, I became very much aware of where I was at. Half naked and laying over top of him, our bodies flush against one another. Both of our shirts had been pushed up and I could feel the smooth skin of his stomach against my own. My heart tripped again, but this time it wasn't out of fear.

I looked him right in the eyes as I lowered my mouth toward his. He moved, lifted up to meet me and we kissed, really kissed for the first time.

His mouth was hot and I could taste the salt of his tears and the slight lingering of fear. I opened for him and he slipped his tongue deep into my mouth and threaded his hand in my hair, now loose from its ponytail.

The heat was instant and sharp. This was where I belonged all along. In his arms and fighting by his side. This was my moment, my perfect moment that I wanted to stay in forever.

Not wasting any time, Dean pulled my tank top over my head and I sat back on my heels to return the favor. Skin on skin he rolled me over onto my back as he kissed his way down my neck to take one of my nipples into his mouth.

I cried out and arched my back. The feel of his hands and mouth on me was like nothing I had ever felt. He was the one, I was sure, we were both born for this moment.

"Please!" I begged, knowing that I couldn't wait any longer and I knew that it was way too soon. We shouldn't be doing this, not yet. It was a moment of weakness, it was the need to feel alive, to confirm that we were once again whole, but I didn't want him to stop. I never wanted him to stop.

I felt his hand slide down my stomach and tease, just inside the edge of my panties and then I heard the voice in my head.  
_  
__No. _

_Stop. _

_Not yet._

_Stop him, Claire. _

_No. No. No. _

_Don't make me come down there, Claire. _

_STOP HIM NOW! _

"Stop!" I choked out as tears once again welled up in my eyes. "Dean, stop, please."

I wanted to sob, I didn't want to stop. I shook my head at his confused look and felt the tears slip from my eyes. "I'm sorry." Weak words, ones that could never make up for what I was asking of him, just like his sorry from earlier.

With all of the grief and pain we've been through, sorry just didn't cut it anymore.

He pulled back from me that with a sneer, "Sure you are. Whatever, Claire." If I thought his voice had deepened with grief, it was nothing like the subterranean of his cold rage.

"Dean,"

"Forget it."

I knew this wasn't his normal reaction to getting turned down. Sex was great, sure, but this was about something else. This was about being turned down when he needed some sort of emotional, physical connection more than he needed to breathe.

As he tried to get up from bed, I grabbed him, pulling him back to me before I kissed him hard. He fought me for only a moment before his hands once again gripped me tight. I threw caution to the wind, I'd rather deal with the wrath of heaven than turn Dean away when he needed me the most. I pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. He was so hard and when I ground down against him, I forgot how to breathe.

I shifted and pulled his boxer briefs down. I looked at his hard cock, barely visible in the dim light. He was only slightly larger than average, but he was thick. I didn't have much experience before I died, but I had to admit, it was as pretty as they get.

Dean reached out and caught my chin in his palm, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

I watched as something shifted in his eyes, in his body and I found myself, once again, on my back, but this time, Dean didn't waste anytime getting my panties off. After he yanked them down, he began to work his way back up. Stopping at my core, he gave me a few licks that had me gasping and him chuckling.

He nestled himself in my thighs and I took a shuddery breath, "Dean?"

"Hmmm," he hummed in reply as he nibbled on my neck.

"I've never done this," his brow arched and I smiled, "Well, since I got back."

"Me either." He admitted and kissed me again slow. "I'll try not to hurt you."

"I trust you, Dean." The look he gave me, burned me. The trust I put in him touched him deeply, deeper than he could ever imagine, but I saw it in his eyes. He shifted and placed the head of his penis at my entrance and I took a deep breath and waited.

Our eyes locked as our breath caught. There was a huge bang as then the door flew open and Castiel stood there, along with a really pissed off Uriel, scowling at us.

Both Dean and I cursed and tried to cover our bodies as best as we could, not that it mattered to the two angels.

"I told you to stop him, Claire." Castiel said in his cool, even tone.

Dean looked at me and grinned, "Disobeying Daddy?"

I flashed Dean a quick smile, then looked over at Castiel, "You told me to help him, whatever it takes."

"Not this." Castiel said with a casual grace that was shockingly beautiful.

"Sex is a normal, human thing, Castiel. It's a beautiful thing."

"Not when the two parties are committing a sin against God." Uriel sneered and stepped into the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

"You're just jealous you can't..." Dean started and I cut him off with a hand on his arm.

"What are you talking about. What's the big deal, really?"

"What's the big deal?" Uriel said it amazement, "Premarital sex is a sin against our Father."

"Everyone does it." Dean muttered and laid down and crossed his arms behind his head. All I could think was, how old are you?

"Sinners more concerned about carnal knowledge than honoring Him." Uriel ground out and Castiel held out a hand. Uriel scowled but shut up and went to brood in the corner.

Dean sat up and yanked on his jeans. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm having a hard time buying into this shit. I still don't know if I believe in God and if there really is one, where the hell was he for the last 29 years? Where was he when my mother burned to death? Where was he when I was dragged to hell?"

Castiel stood and walked toward Dean and I felt my breath catch, "I showed you what your Mother had done. She made a deal with Azazel for your father's life and she broke the deal and died for it. You made a deal with a crossroads demon for Sam's life and you had to face the consequences of your actions. There was nothing my Father could do to stop it. Human's have free will, and that's what keeps getting you in trouble and keeps getting everyone you love killed."

"You sonofabitch!" Dean growled and jumped up from the bed, naked as the days I was born, twice, and stepped in front of him.

"Dean, stop!" He didn't look at me, just kept his eyes on Castiel who looked completely unrattled by Dean's rage.

"I speak the truth, Dean. We all know it and that's what makes you so angry."

Uriel came over and curled his lip, "All you Winchester's are alike. Rash and emotional. You speak and act before you think and that has always been your downfall, Dean. You, Sammy's and your Daddy's. Even Mommy dearest."

This time Dean launched himself at Uriel but Castiel grabbed him by the arm and held him back easily, "Careful. My patience is wearing thin. Uriel," Castiel looked over at the other angel and shook his head, "Wait outside."

Uriel's smug face fell slowly and he stood up just a bit straighter as he turned and left the room. It was clear who was in charge, Castiel, and Dean better see that soon and get himself under control. He was a power keg ready to go off any moment and I realized that was part of my propose, to help him deal with his emotions and remind him to think before he acts.

That had always been a problem with him, but it was even more so now. Dean had always let his emotions rule him. He loved so deeply, felt so much he couldn't stop himself. Sam had always been the voice of reason, holding Dean back, making him think before he acted, but Sam was slipping away and it was up to me to take up the role.

Dean continued to try and stare down Castiel and I really didn't know what to do to help. "Dean?" I said again, softly and his eyes flicked to me and then took in my nakedness. He cursed and reached behind him and yanked off the quilt from the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders and pushed the hair from my face.

He touch was gentle and caring even if he didn't realized it. My heard did a little flip and I turned and looked up at Castiel.

He had seen it, Dean's protectiveness, his actions spoke mountains about the man. Castiel looked at me and gave me a small knowing smile. "You know what you have to do, Claire."

"No I don't, Castiel. Tell me. What do we do now?"

With a long look at both of us, Castiel began to make his way to the door. With a glance over his shoulder, he dropped his bomb, "Marry before you copulate."

With a flash and the sound of wings, he was gone and Dean and I were left standing there with out mouths open.


	6. You're a Bastard, Dean Winchester

**5 You're a Bastard, Dean Winchester!  
Warning: Language, sexual content, nudity, talk of death and of angels and demons.  
****Beta'd by Princess Silence**

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There were few moments of shocked silence before Dean turned and glared at me. "Did you know about this?" He growled and all I could do is shake my head. I had no idea what Castiel or any of them were up too. I was as much as a pawn in this as he was.

"I had no idea." I whispered but he didn't look convinced. He looked pissed, in fact. His jaw was tight and his green eyes glowed with fury. I could see the fire in him now, what drives him. Fury and pain, the two emotions that drove him to do what he had to do to survive.

Dean cursed and began to gather up his clothes. I couldn't let him leave, not like this. I knew if he walked out that door, he'd run and I couldn't let that happen. I had waited long enough to take the first step, I couldn't let him shut me out now.

I had to get him to understand that I had no part in the planning of this whole thing. I've been more in the dark about everything than he was. I didn't know that demons and vampires and other creatures of the night existed until a few months ago. I was living my life in a wonderful, normal bubble. Monsters weren't real, the good guy always got the girl and most everything was fair.

Then I got brain cancer. Ok, not fair but a random chance. The short straw, it happens. But this, being pulled from heaven, shoved full force into a world where people killed supernatural things almost daily. Paired up with a man that wants nothing to do with me, one that is so damaged he can't see his own self worth. One that had spent time in hell, ripping people apart. Torturing them and I'm supposed to help him? Have him fall in love with me in one night? Get him to see the error of his randy ways and commit to me before he jumps my bones? It would be laughable, if it wasn't so sad.

"Dean," I implored as I pulled the shirt of his hands. "I didn't know. I swear!"

If possible his eyes got harder, hotter, "You expect me to believe that? You seem all cosy with Castiel, he talks to you in your mind. I'm sure he's told you the game plan. Ha ha, real funny. Get inside Dean's head, make him think he's not such a freak." He yanked his shirt from my grip and sneered at me, "Did you even die, Claire? Was any of it true?"

His words hit me like a blow. Low and mean, just like he had planned them. I can't say that I blame him...that much. Dean has been through a lot and he's reason not to trust, but I didn't lie to him, not about anything.

My death was slow and hard. I had to watch myself waste away. I had to watch my parents cry and suffer, my mother praying for a miracle that wasn't about to happen. And now that I'm back, alive, whole and well, I still can't go to them because how would I explain all of this? Dean got Sam back because he knows, he lives in a world where this kind of shit is possible. So, yes, I died. I've lost everything I've ever cared about, everything that I've ever known for a stranger. A hard, cold man that wants nothing to do with me but a quick, hard fuck.

"You're a bastard." I finally managed to gasp out through the pain. I could have handled anything but being accused of lying. Calling me a bitch or a whore wouldn't have cut me like the distrust in his voice.

My everything had been taken away from me by God and Castiel and Dean thinks I'm in on some kind of cosmic joke with them? Does he even realize what it's like for me? What I've lost? How alone I truly am? Without Dean or even Sam to some extent, I've got nothing. No one, and the weight of the isolation is crushing.

"No shit!" He snapped, grabbed his boots and coat then yanked the door open before he stormed out of the room.

My knees threatened to give up but I couldn't allow that to happen. Time was of the essence and I had no choice but to follow him, dressed in only a thin, cheap bed quilt. It was cold and icy out and my feet turned numb almost the moment I stepped out on to the rough concrete. Dean walked with long, angry strides to the room he shared with Sam and pounded on the door, yelling for Sam to open up.

"Dean, wait." I cried but he didn't bother looking my way. The door opened and he shouldered Sam aside with a growl and disappeared in the dark of the room. "Dean!"

Sam looked at the way I was dressed and then over at Dean who was still half naked and quirked a brow, "Lovers quarrel already?"

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean growled, "And shut the door."

I glared up at Sam and did some growling of my own, "Don't you dare shut the door in my face." Sam held up his hands and stepped aside. I brushed past him to hover over to Dean who was sitting on one of the double beds.

"You are the biggest asshole I've ever met. Do you have any idea what I've been through for you?" Dean just turned his head away from me and that pissed me off more. Just who the hell did he think he was? I grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look at me. "Do you? For years, Dean, _years _I suffered for you, for someone that I didn't even know existed. My heart, my head. Nightmares and strange visions. I thought I was going insane! I died for you, a few times as it seems, and this is how you repay me? By blaming me? Shutting me out and walking away from me like a spoiled child. Calling me a liar? Who the _fuck_ do you think you are? What gives you the Goddamn right to be so fuckin' high and mighty? I'm not some girl you can screw and toss aside, we're in this mess together!"

Dean yanked his face from my grip and stood up before he got in my face. I was tall for a woman, and while Dean wasn't as tall as Sam, he towered over me. His anger and indignation overwhelmed me and I felt a sliver of fear tickle down my spine. It was only then did I realized that somewhere along the way, I had lost my only protection, the quilt, and now I stood, naked, in front of both Sam and Dean. Fear blossomed and I shivered but not from the cool air. It was from the hot ice in Dean's eyes, the soft, deep tone of his voice that some how managed to make it more menacing. "If you remember, we didn't _screw_. We're supposed to get married first!"

"What?" Sam coughed before I felt him wrap the blanket back around me. I was grateful for the warmth and protection it provided me and I felt my heart soften just a bit more toward Sam and I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass. Sam was destined to become the big evil.

I clutched the quilt, something soft and warm in a harsh and cold world. "What do you think? That I'm trying to trap you? Force you to marry me?" I couldn't help the bubble of laughter that escaped, "Why would I do that? How can we even legally get married? We're both _dead!_"

He didn't have an answer for that, I could see that in his eyes. I could also tell my words wounded his pride a little bit. He didn't want to marry me, but it stung his ego that I wasn't keen on the idea and begging him to take the plunge either. As pissed off as I was at him, I still couldn't help but fall, just a bit, into that fantastic green. "I didn't know." I told him softly and this time it got through.

Dean sighed and rubbed his head, "Fuck! What do we do now?"

I giggled, the sound tight and slightly hysterical, and shook my head, "We get married or we keep our hands to ourselves."

I could hear Sam choking back a laugh behind me and Dean scowled at him. "This isn't funny, Sam."

"Ahhh, yeah it is. Dean finally found someone that's off limits. You better keep your junk in your pants, brother, or put a ring on her finger. Personally, I vote for the ring." Sam said with a howl of laughter, "Oh, it would be so fantastic watching the two of you."

"What do you mean by that?" I said, feeling my anger rising again, but this time, it was directed at Sam. I wasn't in the mood for jokes and being laughed at. This was my life we're talking about, well, at least this new life.

Still snickering, Sam pointed to me, "You were so pissed off that you didn't realize you were naked and Dean was so worked up, he wasn't checking you out. He had a beautiful, very naked, very hot chick in front of him and he was looking at your face." Sam sighed, "Ahhh... if that isn't love... I don't know what is."

"Sammy, I swear to God, I'm gonna..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Kick my ass." Sam said, not sounding afraid in the least.

"This isn't funny." I said and began pacing their room,"None of this is funny and it doesn't make any sense. Why would Uriel or Castiel care if we had sex or not? Sure, sin against God and all that, but really? What's one more against all the other ones. Gluttony, Murder? Stealing?"

"Wow, you really know how to sweet talk a dude." Dean said sarcastically, pulling his shirt back on and hiding all those fantastic golden muscles from my eyes. I just pursed my lips at him, picked up his button down shirt and put it on. After I had it fastened, I wrapped the quilt around my waist and started pacing again.

When I turned to look at them, they were both staring at me like I was insane. "What?"

Dean and Sam looked at each other and grinned, "She _is_ really hot." Sam said with a teasing grin.

"I know," Dean groaned, "Did you see her ass?"

Sam nodded, "You could do worse in a wife, my brother."

"Ummm HELLO! I'm right here!" I ground out but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't quite cover up the smirk on my face. Dean liked my ass, woo hooo!

They both sobered and looked at me with fake innocent looks and it took everything in me not to laugh at them. "What were we talking about?" Dean asked with a fake frown.

"Ahh," Sam tilted his head back and then smiled, "How crappy of a husband you'd be."

"Thanks." Dean sneered.

"Boys, please!" I laughed and held up my hands. These two were insufferable. Like a couple of kids, really.

"What?" Dean said again, "You were questioning my character."

"Ohh, Look who's talking. First you get pissed off because I won't have sex with you and then you get mad at _me_ over something I had no idea or control over. You accuse me of lying and trying to trap you, like you're the grand prize of men."

"Hey!" Dean snapped, "I'm a catch."

"Right. No job, no home and an unhealthy loyalty to your brother."

Dean straightened and pointed at me, "Don't you drag Sammy into this."

I rolled my eyes. He just didn't get it, not yet. I think this whole damn thing is about his brother. Everything that is happening and has happened is because of Sam, because of what he is to become.

"Fine, Dean, whatever. I don't have the strength to fight with you. All I'm saying is that something is off here and I want to know what it is. I don't expect you to marry me. I'm not holding my breath that you'll fall hopelessly in love with me. I know better. You'll do anything and everything in your power to keep that from happening, but know this. I'm not walking away from you or this fight. We were brought back for a reason and I damn well plan on finding out what it is. There is something bigger than you and me going on here."

Dean's eyes flicked over to Sam, just for a split second, but I saw it. When he looked back at me, he saw the confirmation in my eyes. Yes, this was all about Sam and his destiny.


	7. Answers

**Chapter 6 Answers  
Warning: Language, talk of heaven, hell, angels, demons, God and Lucifer.  
Thanks to PS for beta.  
Keep in mind that this is AU, but I do include some stuff from recent eppies, so there are spoilers.**

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I looked at Dean and wondered what our next move was. I had no idea where to go from here, this part was out of my depth. I was scared and unsure, two feelings I don't care much for. I watched as Dean's jaw ticked a few times and I knew he was clenching and unclenching his teeth. His eyes seemed to want to gravitate toward Sam, but he wouldn't let them rest there for long... that would make it seem that he was accusing Sam of something. Or that he didn't trust him.

I know Sam was pinnacle in all of this. It was in his destiny, written long before he was born, that he was to act on the side of Evil. So far, he's managed to withstand the darker forces, but for how long?

Dean has been to hell, been ripped apart and has done some ripping of his own. Some would classify that as evil, but I see it as survival. Thirty years he held out. Thirty years of being ripped and rendered before he couldn't take it anymore. The fact that after forty years in hell, he's still even remotely sane was the true judge of his strength and character.

Now Dean's back and still fighting evil. He didn't join it, didn't give in to it. He was hand picked by God and the angels to fight for the light as his brother, the only flesh and blood he has left, slowly but surely, though unknowingly, embraces the dark.

I take a step toward him without realizing it. His eyes flick to mine and hold. "What do we do now?" I ask softly and for a moment, I see fear and the sharp edge of panic before he quickly masks it.

"We go see Bobby."

Bobby Singer. The man that was like much a second father to them both. I know only a little bit about him, he's a hard man to dig any information up on, but I know that the boys trust him implicitly.

"Yeah, if anyone knows about this kinda thing, it's Bobby." Sam supplied before he made his way over to the their empty bags in the closet. Sam grabbed them and tossed one at Dean who caught it without looking. His eyes were still on mine before he lowered them slowly and he smirked.

"You better hurry up and get dressed, unless you plan on going like that."

I felt my cheeks heat and I lifted my chin a notch. "You're not going to leave without me, are you?"

Dean chuckled and shook his head, "Not if you get that fine ass moving. Get dressed, Claire, and pack a bag. We leave in thirty."

"Shit!" I cursed and as I spun to run back to my room, I tripped on the stupid quilt I still had wrapped around my legs and stumbled. Before I could hit the floor, Sam caught me. When I looked up at him, I saw that the whites of his eyes were red and the blue had turned to yellow. His lips were pulled back in a hideous sneer and when I blinked it was gone and he was smiling his beautiful smile at me once again.

My heart hammered as I thanked him quietly, turned and gave Dean a look that made him frown and I hurried out of the room.

My hands and knees were shaking so badly by the time I got back to my room, I had a hard time turning the doorknob. I slammed the door shut and locked it, even put on the chain, but still I didn't feel safe. I wasn't sure I'd ever feel safe again. I had always had a sliver of hope that there was some way to save Sam, but now I knew the truth. There was nothing to be done.

A gentle knock on the door startled me so badly that I cried out and jumped away as if it burned me.

"Claire? It's me," Dean said, "Are you ok?" His words were quiet and rushed and with a hint of fear.

Was I ok? No, not in the least, but how could I tell him that? How could I tell Dean what I saw in the face of his beloved brother? Hate and evil so pure that it seared that one moment, that one look into my mind forever.

"Claire!" He hissed and pounded louder.

I unlocked the door and cracked it open as much as the chain would allow. I looked at Dean, behind him and to the sides. He was alone. I closed the door, unlatched the chain and opened it for him. The moment he was through, I once again slammed it and locked it tight.

Dean stood behind me and I couldn't find it in me to turn around and face him. My hands still shook, in truth my whole body was shaking and I was sure he noticed. He put his hand on my shoulder and slowly turned me around to face him but I couldn't meet his eye. I just couldn't bring myself to, not yet at least.

He pulled me close and I buried my face in the crook of his neck and breathed him in. He smelled like sandalwood and something wild and untamed. He smelled of heaven and I felt myself melt into him. His heat and strength helped steady me and my trembling lessened.

Dean rubbed my back through the borrowed shirt and as the last of my shaking faded, leaving me cold with fear. "I know. Shhhh, it's ok. I got you."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. I looked up at him, tears in my eyes... or were they in his? "You saw?"

He blinked and I watched as a single tear rolled down his cheek. He didn't have to answer me, not with words at least.

"I don't know how to deal with this, Dean." I told him honestly. Dealing with Castiel and Uriel was hard enough, but I had been to heaven and I knew it existed. I know Dean had been to hell, so that too was real, but all the other stuff in the middle. Demons and vampires, ghosts and reapers. That stuff should just be stories to scare friends around campfires.

"What is going to happen?" I asked Dean, hoping he had an answer or at least a direction. I couldn't even imagine the pain he must be feeling right now. Sam was his world, he had given up his life to save him, and now, it seems that everything was done in vain. Years of fighting, of research and blood, wasted because the outcome hasn't changed. Their actions might have even made it come to fruition.

If Dean hadn't gone to Sam for help finding their father, he would have been kept safe and away from all the evil that surrounds them now. Maybe without its influence, he would have stayed safe and in the light?

Then again, Azazel did kill off Jessica for getting in his way. He wanted Sam in the worst way, but Azazel was dead now, so who was still after Sam? Lilith wanted him, but for a whole different reason. She wanted Sam dead because she knew when all the cards are laid out, his powers will trump hers.

"I don't know." Dean pulled back and looked down at me. His face was as serious as I've ever seen, "We'll go see Bobby or talk to Castiel or something, but we've got to stop this!"

"What if we can't?" I whispered and felt my chin tremble at the look of grief that came into his eyes. Dean was breaking my heart. His father was right, he felt so deeply, so purely. He'd do anything to save the people he loved, but in the end, it wouldn't be enough and I think he was finally starting to see that.

"We will." He said, his voice cracking emotions and I knew, we both did, that this was one fight we wouldn't win.

It was too late to save Sam.

There was another knock on the door and this time we both jumped. "Yo, Dean, you in there?"

Dean swallowed and looked down at me. "Yeah," he said but it was a mere whisper. Clearing his throat he put more force behind it. "Yeah."

He took a step toward the door and I shook my head. I wasn't ready to deal with Sam yet and I still hadn't packed or changed for that matter. Dean just kissed me on the forehead and opened the door.

Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out the keys to the Impala and said, "You take the Impala, I'm gonna ride with Claire for a bit."

Sam snickered, but I didn't look at him. Maybe he thought I was playing shy or coy. Truth was, I couldn't look at him yet without seeing the grotesque thing he was becoming. Instead I went to the bathroom and closed the door and tried to block out everything.

A shower, that's what I needed. A long, hot shower to warm myself. I turned the water on and no sooner did I step under the spray before Dean knocked on the door and then let himself in.

I snorted to myself and wondered if I'd ever have any privacy again. I hardly knew this man and he'd seen me naked more than just about anyone.

"You ok?" he asked and I didn't know so I deflected.

"Are you?"

With a deep, soul wrenching sigh, he sat down on the toilet seat and put his head in his hands. I looked at him through the funky pink and orange shower curtain and wondered how we got so comfortable with each other in such a short time.

With a flick of my wrist, I shut the water off and snagged a small, thin towel to wrap around my body. He didn't move when I stepped out so I went to him and put my hands on his shoulders. He leaned forward and slid his arms around my waist and put his head against my stomach and just held on.

"I don't know what to do, Claire. I... I don't know if I can save him." He swallowed, "I don't think anyone can save him now."

Dean looked up at me and I wanted nothing more than to tell him that we'd find a way. We'd save Sam and the world all at once, but in truth, I knew that wasn't going to happen.

I cupped his cheek, rubbing my thumb over his full bottom lip, "We can't save him, Dean. It's too late, we both know it." I watched as grief filled his face and tears fill his eyes, "All we can do now is lessen the damage."

My heart pinched as he lowered his head and placed it once more on my tummy. Running my hand over his head, I closed my eyes and wished there was a way to make him feel better, to make it hurt less, but I knew nothing would help.

There was a noise and both Dean and I turned to find Castiel standing in the doorway of the bathroom with something close to sympathy or remorse in his eyes.

"I know this isn't easy, Dean." Castiel said quietly.

Dean sneered at him, "You don't know shit."

Castiel was unruffled by Dean's caustic attitude, "I said before that I don't envy the weight on your shoulders. This is a heavy burden, for anyone to bear."

Dean stood so quickly that I stumbled back a bit and would have fallen if Castiel hadn't reached out a hand to steady me. "Why him? Why us? Who in my family pissed off God or Satan so bad that it's all come down to this?"

"Your mother..."

"You leave my mother out of this!" Dean growled and took a step toward the angel, who was slowly losing his patience.

"Your mother made a deal with Azazel, Dean."

"Only after he came after her and my father. Why?" Dean asked and threw his hands up in the air, "Why US!"

"I understand your anger..."

"ANGER! You have no idea what it means to be angry, Castiel. To have everything taken away for no reason. This is my brother! The only family I have left. Haven't the Winchesters paid with enough blood? My mother and father's, my grandparents... mine! When is it enough? When will it stop? I've already died, so has Sammy, but it's still not enough, is it? No, Sam's got to turn evil, go against everything that he's believed in and tried to fight his whole life. Just... give in?"

Dean stormed out of the bathroom to pace in the small space of the room, "Tell me how to stop it, how can I save him. I mean, you brought me back for a reason, right? So, tell me."

Castiel took a deep breath and nodded, "Yes, Dean, you were brought back for a reason." He turned and looked at me and than back at Dean, "What you fail to realize is, that you weren't brought back to save Sam, no one can save him."

"Then why?"

Yes, why, I wondered. Why was I involved in this whole thing. I had nothing to do with any of this, but here I was, brought back from the dead. I walked over and stood beside Dean and waited for Castiel's answer. I know this was it, the reason behind all of it.

"Only a child of pure light and love will defeat the son of pure dark and evil."

"What? What does that mean?"

Castiel looked at me and I felt all the color drain from my face. It all made sense now, why I was there.

"Claire, are you ok?" Dean asked me, noticing my pale color and trembling hands. He helped me sit on the bed and knelt in front of me. He shot Castiel a look but the angel didn't take the bait, just stood silently, watching. "Claire?"

I looked over Dean's head to Castiel and got a nod as conformation. "That's why I'm here?"

"Yes." He said simply.

"Why me?"

"Because you were chosen, just like Dean."

It didn't make any sense. My mother had always been the religious one, believing in miracles but not me. I'd always been a little more down to earth. Sure, I believed in God and heaven, heck, I've been there, but this was too much.

"Chosen for what?" Dean asked, his confusion clear on his face. "What are you talking about?"

I lowered my eyes to look into Dean's green ones, "Only a child of pure light and love will defeat the son of pure dark and evil."

"Yeah, I heard him, but what's that mean. A child of light and love? What child?"

Dean's brow knotted as he thought, searched for the answer. I watched him chasing the thoughts around in his mind and held my breath when it all clicked. There was only one answer to it all.

"A child," he whispered and locked eyes with me, "Our child?" I bit my bottom lip and nodded. Dean shook his head, "There is no child. Castiel and that douche Uriel don't want us to hook up."

Castiel sighed and it would have been funny, if the topic wasn't so serious. I smiled softly, Dean sure was cute when he was being a ditz. My eyes flicked quick to Castiel and he gave me a curt nod.

"A child of light, Dean. The child would have to be conceived in wedlock to be pure. That's why we're not supposed to make love until we're married. The child has to have God's blessing."

He blinked at me and then turned and looked at Castiel before he stood up and cursed. That wasn't very flattering, I must say.

We watched Dean pace back and forth, cursing God and the devil and anyone and anything before he spun around and pinned Castiel with a look, "What happens if we don't? Get married or have the kid?"

For once, Castiel's eyes chilled when he looked at Dean, "Then there will be no one to stop Lucifer."

"I thought this was to stop Sammy?" I asked quietly.

Castiel shrugged, "Lucifer, Samael, all in the same, really."

"What's that supposed to mean? Sam's Lucifer?"

"In a way, yes. Lucifer is bound by the 66 seals, kept from the human realm because of them. Sam is his vessel, the body he has chosen, meat suit I think you call them."

Dean flinched for a moment, thinking of his brother that way. "So, that means it's Sam's body that Lucifer wants, not really Sam? Would any body do?"

Castiel shook his head. "No. It has to be Sam."

"Why?" Dean demanded to know.

"Because of his strength, because Azazel gave him his blood. Because it is who Lucifer wants and when Azazel dropped the blood into his mouth, Sam took pure evil into his body where it grew and will continue to grow. As time goes on and the seals are broken, Lucifer's hold on him will also continue to grow until one day, Sam will stop existing. His soul and life force will fuse and belong to the devil and to kill one means to kill the other."

"What if..." I said and swallowed and looked at Dean, "What if Sam dies before all of the seals are broken?"

Dean looked at me and I wept for him, "I'm sorry," I whispered to him. His face was so full of hurt and betrayal. Still, if it was an option, then it would have to be thought about. Lucifer could never be allowed to rise, the world as we know it would begin to end.

Castiel shook his head, "It's not that easy. Lucifer would find a way to bring him back," he looked pointedly at Dean, "Just like he did before. He'd use Dean again and again, knowing the bond they have. He knows that even after everything that has happened, Dean would try to bring him back."

I looked over at Dean and he had a guilty look on his face and I knew that Castiel spoke the truth. "Is this the reason why all of the Winchester's are dead? So Sam and Dean only have each other and are driven to do anything to save the other?"

Castiel walked toward the door and opened it, "Yes, and now you know what has to be done to stop this. The only question is, are you strong enough to let go, Dean? And Claire, are you worthy of Dean's love and trust when the very thing he lives for is taken away?"


	8. Road Trip

**7 Road Trip  
Warning: language and content.  
Thanks to Princess Silence for beta**

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The silence was thick after Castiel left. Grief was coming off Dean in waves and I knew there was nothing I could do or say to make it any better. I got dressed and packed my bags as he sat at the table, staring at nothing, lost deep in thought.

When I came and stood at his shoulder, he turned and looked up at me, his eyes old and tired. "You ready?"

I nodded and wanted to reach out and touch him but knew he wasn't ready for that. Not now. He was too fragile, just barely holding it together. He wouldn't want my sympathy or compassion just then because he would feel that he didn't deserve it. That it was best left for Sam.

I took a second to look over my room and sigh. I'd been there for months and I wasn't sure if I'd ever see it again. It had become kind of like home. I took all that was important with me, but I still felt naked stepping out into the bitter wind. I locked the door and handed my car keys to Dean. He took them wordlessly and popped the trunk.

I made my way to the back of the car to put in bags in and snorted when I saw Dean's stuff and a few guns, some salt, a jug of holy water and a small assortment of knives. My heart pinched at the sight, knowing that Sam had left all of it for Dean to keep him safe while they were apart. They never knew when they'd come upon a nasty somewhere and would need some protection. I was deeply touched, once again by their love for one another.

It was really too bad that it wasn't enough to save either one of them.

The temperature had dropped and snow flurries had begun to fall. Dean started the car and we waited for the windows to clear and for the heat to kick in. He didn't comment on the interior, but I saw him running his hands along the dashboard in appreciation. Sure, he loved old cars, but this was still a beauty.

Dean backed out and turned left onto the highway and we were on our way.

"How long until we get to Bobby's?" I asked about a half hour later. It was mindless conversation, but we needed something to break the ice and I really wanted to know. The hum of the road was poor company.

Clearing his throat, he said, "'bout five hours."

I closed my eyes and sighed. Five hours of silence, how would I stand it?

"I never had a sibling." I said quietly, "I always wanted a sister, but my Mom couldn't have anymore kids after me. Guess she had a few losses before me too." Dean didn't respond, but glanced at me so I kept talking. "Growing up, I'd get lonely sometimes, angry even. All of my friends had brothers and sisters and they'd fight and curse at each other. I always thought if I was lucky enough to have one myself, that I'd never fight with them."

Dean chuckled, "You'd fight. It's all part of the experience."

I shrugged, "Maybe. Once I got used to the idea of being an only, I decided that I'd have lots of kids." I smiled, "I love kids, but... that didn't work out either."

Dean was silent a long time before he finally spoke, "Sammy and I didn't always get along. I just about raised him while our dad was off hunting Azazel. It was just him and me, most days. We got older, Sam got resentful of Dad and they started fighting." With a scoff and a shake of his head, Dean continued, "Man did they fight. See... Sam wanted more. Didn't want to be a hunter. Wanted to be a lawyer. He thought that my dad was ashamed, angry that he didn't join ranks." He let out a deep sigh and looked really sad again, "Truth was, Dad was so proud of Sam but both of them were too damn stubborn."

I poked him in his ribs and smiled when he looked at me, "You're stubborn too."

He gave me a sly grin, "It's a Winchester trait."

"So our child will be like that too?"

His grin froze and slowly died on his lips, just like I knew it would. Still, this was something that needed talking about. It was the elephant in the room, so to speak.

"I never wanted kids, Claire. Never wanted to bring a kid into this world."

"Yeah," I whispered, "I can see that."

"Claire,"

"Dean."

He chuckled and rubbed his eyes, "Fuck!"

"John wants me to help you, Dean. Save you. I can't do that if you won't let me."

"I'm not the one that needs saving. Sammy is."

"It's too late for him."

"DON'T SAY THAT!" Dean roared and punched the steering wheel. "Don't say that." He repeated, this time in a whisper. With a curse, Dean pulled over on the side of the road and turned and looked at me. "He's my brother, Claire. How am I supposed to deal with this? What am I supposed to do? Kill him? After I spent my whole life protecting him?"

Dean's jaw was clenched in anger, but his eyes swam with grief. "It's not your job to kill Sam, Dean."

"If not me, then who? My father told me it was up to me, my job to take him out if I it came down to it."

I shook my head, he still didn't understand, "It's our child's job to kill him, Dean."

With a frustrated growl he clenched his hands, "Our child? Christ, Claire, your not even pregnant yet. You're tying to tell me that it's God's will that Sam or Lucifer walks among us until our kid is old enough to kill him? Sam is a big guy and he's a strong motherfucker."

"Size doesn't always mean the advantage."

Shaking his head, Dean said, "No way. No way am I sending a child to do my job. Not my kid, not anyone else's. Sam's my responsibility."

"Dammit, Dean, would you listen to yourself! You can't do this alone! You're not a one man army."

"I'll do what it takes to get the job done."

"And what if you die? Then what, Dean? What if Sam kills you? The rest of the world would be fucked because you're too damn stubborn to accept any help."

Dean got in my face then and sneered, "I am NOT putting a child of mine at risk for anyone. Not even God. Get that through your head, Claire."

For the first time, I was afraid of Dean. His eyes were hard and cold, his word final, at least in his mind. I didn't speak, what could I say, after all, to make it any easier for him. If we did have a child, it would be half mine, too. I would never be able to live if any harm ever came to it.

Castiel claimed it's God's will that we have a child. That we were brought back to life, both of us from our own private kind of hell. I just wanted a normal life, kids. A house and a husband that loved me. I didn't sign up for any of this and I didn't want any of it.

If I could get out, I would. Get out and run like the devil was on my tail, because it was obvious that he was. Time was flying by and everything was spinning out of control and I couldn't stop it. I was powerless to do anything but sit back and watch the world crumble around me.

Dean pulled back on to the road and I closed my eyes and rested my head against the window. What were we going to do? How would we manage to get out of this?

Dean was resentful toward me and I really couldn't blame him too much, but how was I going to save him if he wouldn't let me in?

All thoughts fled my mind as I just sat and watched the yellow line out the side window. I was so tired, so spent. The last year of my life had been spent dying, only to be reborn in a way and thrown back in to something that didn't make any sense.

I hadn't been able to sleep well since I came back. Plagued with nightmares and images that weren't my own. Nights spent searching and digging for a scrap of news, for an idea of when it would finally all start to play out and here I was, smack in the middle of it, lost and alone and still so very tired.

How must Dean feel? Years or running, fighting and dying. Losing everyone and everything around you.

"I don't think I can do this," I whispered, my words slurred with exhaustion even to me, "They should've chosen someone else? Someone stronger. Why couldn't they just leave me in peace?" I felt Dean's hand in mine, warm and firm and we laced fingers.

I fell asleep, holding Dean's hand and listening to the hum of tires on the road. When I woke up, my neck was stiff and sore and my arm was asleep. When I tried to move it, I gasped in pain, Dean grunted and shook out his hand also.

I blinked against the pale light and looked around me. We were in the middle of a junk yard somewhere. I turned with a questioning look at Dean and he grinned, "We're at Bobby's."

Wow! I couldn't believe that I had slept that long. I really needed it, but I had wanted to talk to Dean about some stuff, clear the air. It was too late for that now.

The front door opened and Sam and Bobby stood there, waiting for us. I was scared and my head felt like it was still clouded with fog. I needed more sleep, some Advil for my screaming, stiff neck and food. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled, followed closely by Dean's and we chuckled lightly and opened our car doors at the same time.

Dean waited for me to come around the car and we walked to the house together, Dean's hand at the small of my back. Like a couple, like we belonged.

Bobby gave him a nod and a brief hug before he turned his eyes on me. I smiled tentatively and waited for what was to come next. There was a mixture of amusement, suspicion and curiosity in his eyes before he stuck out his hand and introduced himself.

"Sam said you were a looker. Half again too good for this jackass." Bobby rumbled and jerked his thumb toward Dean. "Still, we can't be too sure," he said as he pulled out a small flask from his back pocket.

Dean cursed and shook his head, "She's not a demon, Bobby."

Bobby just shrugged and wiggled the bottle, "Then it won't hurt her none. Like I said, can't be too sure now days."

I looked over at Dean for some explanation and he sighed. "It's holy water, Claire. If it burns you, you're a demon or a vampire, but since we've seen you in the sun, that's out." With an eye roll, he just handed me the flask, "Just drink it and get it over with. He won't let us in the house until you do."

I arched a brow and took a long drink before I grinned and handed the sliver container back to Bobby.

Bobby smiled and stepped toward me. The next thing I knew, he pulled me into a tight hug and said, "Welcome to the family, Claire."

"Ummm, thank you."

"Alright, alright," Dean growled, "Hands off and she's not part of the family just yet."

Bobby winked at me and grinned, "Way Sam tells it, it won't be long."

"Sam's got a big mouth." Dean sneered at his younger brother but Sam looked anything but contrite.

"Come on in and lets see if we can figure this out." Bobby said as he held the door open for me and then followed me inside with Dean and Sam pulling up the rear.


	9. Just Watch Me!

**8** **"Just watch me!" **  
Warning: talk of heaven and hell, supernatural beings, harsh language  
Thanks to Bitten for beta!

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I looked around Bobby's house and sighed. I could see that it had good bones, that a long time ago, it was meant to be a home. A place to raise kids and grow old together. Now, the wallpaper was peeling and the floors were scuffed and scarred. Books littered every available surface and the floor. Candles and incense, guns and knives. The place was anything but child- friendly or comfortable, but some how... I felt safe. It felt like 'home', in a way that my crappy little motel room never did.

I turned and looked at Dean and smiled, "We'll raise the child here."

His face hardened and his jaw clenched, "Dammit, Claire! I told you that I won't bring a kid into this world."

"It's not our choice," I reminded him and he shook his head.

"Yes it is. My dick. My sperm. My choice!"

"Christ, Dean." Bobby grumbled at his crudeness but I just snorted.

"Life will find a way, Dean. God will find a way. If he wants this child to be born, and he was willing to pull you from hell to father it, do you really think he's going to let something like your 'choice' alter his plans?" I said. That pissed Dean off more and he swore a blue streak and stormed from the house.

I turned and looked at Bobby and he just shrugged, "He'll cool off in a bit," he said, handing me an icy beer, "He knows you're right. If there's one thing that Dean hates, itis having his options taken away and choices made for him."

I took a long pull of the beer and purred in approval. "Yeah, well... it's not just his choice that has been taken away." I sat down, suddenly very tired once again. I hadn't noticed until now that Sam had followed Dean outside and it was just me and Bobby.

"He seems to forget that he's not alone in this. I was taken from heaven, after suffering the horrors of his life and death, my own death before that, unknowing what or why, and thrown into a world I had no idea existed. Then I'm told that I need to marry and have a child with a man that is only one step away from hating me. And that my child, our child, is the only thing that can stop and kill his brother, who is going to be Satan by the way, when the time comes."

I wiped a stray tear away and leaned back against the chair, muttering "What did I do to deserve this?" I just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. Maybe when I woke, this would all be a dream and I could go on living a normal, sane life.

"Nothing," Bobby assured me, "You did nothing wrong and you don't deserve this. None of us do, but someone's got to fight the fight. We're it, I guess. Without men like Dean and Sam, the world would have fallen to the demons a long time ago."

"Yeah, maybe... Too bad that Sam is destined to become the very thing he fights. How just is that? Why does it have to be him? What makes him so special and how many lives have been ruined and ended to get to him? Now it's my job to create life, to have a child, to stop him now that everything else has failed?"

Bobby didn't say anything, what could he say, really? "Wonder what would have happened if Dean let Sam stay dead? Maybe none of this would have happened to me."

"You don't really believe that shit, do you?" Bobby asked me gruffly.

I let out a huge sigh, "No. No I don't. I was already involved at that point, I just didn't know it. Maybe there was something I could have done to keep from ending up here? It's obvious that Dean doesn't want me."

Bobby snorted, "Please, Claire, get a grip. Dean wants just about any woman but Ruby and Lilith."

I opened my eyes and pinned Bobby with a look. "Wow, comforting. And maybe that's the problem. What makes me so special in the sea of willing, loose women? Why ME? My whole life, I was just normal. I have no special powers, I can't expel demons with my mind like Sam. I can't fight vampires or anything else that goes bump in the night. I was just a normal girl, going to college and hoping one day to find someone to love and have a family with."

"You can still have a family," Bobby said quietly.

"Not the same. Now, my child will have to be raised as a fighter. There will be no sleepovers at friend's houses. No worrying about him falling out of a tree and breaking his arm or scraping his knees from jumping his bike over ramps. It'll be all about raising a warrior. Teaching him how to use guns and knives and crossbows. Who reacts to silver and how to make holy water and carrying around a flask to test people with!"

"In other words, making another me," Dean said quietly from the doorway.

Both Bobby and I snapped our heads in his direction and I wondered how much he heard. Too much I'm sure. His green eyes burned hot into mine and I had to look away. Guilt and regret filled me but I had spoken the truth, we all knew it.

My son would have to be raised like Dean was. It was something neither of us wanted and for our own reasons. I didn't belong in this world and Dean, well he'd seen too much of it to allow an innocent child's life to be ruined as his had.

He never had a chance to have play dates and camp outs in the back yard. At the tender age of four, he became a surrogate father to his infant brother. Too much responsibility was dumped on him at too young of an age. Hopes and dreams, desires never given the chance to grow and flourish. Never even given the chance to be imagined. Knowing Dean the small amount that I did, I knew he would never dump that onto a child, least of all his own.

It suddenly all became too much and my head began to pound. My vision dimmed and brought back memories I wished would never surface again. Looking for a way out, I stood and whispered, "I'm tired."

"Last door to the right. Got its own bathroom," Bobby told me and I just nodded at him and picked up my bag and shuffled my way up the stairs.

No one spoke as I left, not that it mattered. I was beyond too tired to care anymore. I just wanted to take a long, hot shower and even longer nap.

The bathroom was dated, pink and gray tile, and dusty but not dirty. Just unused. Slight rust ring in the toilet but I didn't care. I found the bag with my shampoos and stuff in it and turned the shower on as hot as it would go. I stood under it, hoping that the pounding heat would ease the tension and headache. I stood there until the water turned cool and then dried off with the small, scratchy towel that was left under the sink.

With my hair still dripping, I stumbled my way to the bed and fell in it. It didn't matter that I was naked, both Sam and Dean had seen me in my natural state and as for Bobby, I'm sure he was too much of a gentleman to stare... long. I just didn't care, my brain and my body agreed it was time to shut down and I had no choice in the matter, though I did manage to pull the thin, white chenille bedspread over me before I slipped into my coma.

I don't know how long I slept, but I know when I woke it was daylight, still or again, I wasn't sure. Dean was sitting on a chair in the corner looking haggard and drawn. When I moved it hurt and I groaned in pain. I was stiff from having stayed in the same position for too long. I was hungry, thirsty and I had to pee extremely bad.

From the protests of my body, I would guess I'd been out for a lot longer than planned. Still, I must have needed it because I was sure I woke in the same spot that I landed in.

"Ugahhg," I groaned as I sat up. Muscles protested and my bladder threatened to burst. I stood and half stumbled, half jumped to the bathroom. I didn't even bother to close the door and I heard Dean chuckle when I sighed with relief.

"How long was I out?" I asked, my voice rough and filled with sleep.

"'Bout 28 hours."

"Shit!"

"Close the door if you do, please."

I snorted and shook my head. "No, I feel like shit and 'cause I can't believe that I slept that long."

"Well, you looked like shit and you must have needed it," Dean said with a slight grin as I made my way back into the bedroom.

"Wow, thanks. Is this the fancy words I get to wake up to every morning for the rest of my unnatural life?" His grin slowly faded and his eyes turned troubled once again. "Dean..." He just shook his head in an attempt to change the subject but I wouldn't let him hide this time. "We can't run away from this."

"We don't have to run away, but that don't mean we have to do what Castiel and God want. I'm sick of playing their game. I'm sick of having no say in my life."

Dean watched me as I dressed in a pair of brown cotton pants and a thick cream sweater. I thought about what he said as I tried to avoid looking at the straining bulge in his pants. The one thing that scared me most was, what would happen if we didn't follow God's plan?

"Dean," I started, trying to find the words and the right way to express my concern. "What do you think will happen if we don't do what they want? Do you think they will let us go our own happy little way?" I turned and looked at him, trying to make him see. "They might let you stick around, you still fight the good fight, but what about me? The only reason I'm standing here right now is because I'm supposed to carry your child. If that child never comes to fruition, then what? What happens to me?"

Dean just stared at me. He didn't have an answer any more than I did. Would I just cease being? Drop dead? Get sucked in to some kind of vortex? Would it change the last months of reality? Would I have to die slowly and painfully once again? But this time, I'd be alone. No parents, no one to hold my hand and tell me it's all going to be alright. I couldn't face that again. I just didn't have the strength. If it came down too it... I'd end it myself.

Both Dean and I are living and breathing though unnatural ways. We shouldn't be here...it has to screw something up in the fabric of life. One loose strand can have the whole thing unraveling. Was I that loose thread? Was Dean?

"Castiel brought me back for you, Dean. If you don't want me... where do I go?"

Dean's jaw worked for a moment as he thought and failed to come up with an answer. "I don't know, Claire."

I sniffed and tried to hold it together. My heart pinched painfully and my hand tingled. "I can't do it again, Dean." Tears filled my eyes and clogged my throat. "Please... if you don't want me, just kill me now and save me the pain of dying slowly."

Dean stood and walked toward my shaking body. "I'm not going to kill you, Claire, and you're not going to die like that again. I promise you."

I shook my head and tried to step out of his grasp. "Don't make promises you can't keep. You can't fight heaven or hell when they want something."

"Just watch me," Dean said defiantly.


	10. Promises

**Chapter 9  
Warning: Spoiler alert though season 5  
Language, talk of angels and demons, heaven and hell.  
Special thinks to Bitten for beta and helping me plug away at this. While this is shorter than most chappies I post, writing is very hard for me at the moment and Bitten keeps me inspired. My hope is to post this and have the next one ready in the short term.**

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Dean held me for a little while longer before he kissed my hair and left. He had stuff to do, things to prepare, ammo to load. I was once again left to my own devices. Normally, I enjoyed some alone time, but lately, I'd had way too much. Every hour, every minute that ticked by moved excruciatingly slow and entirely too fast at once. It was confusing and made my head spin.

I just wanted it all to stop so I could take a breath, but I was so scared that if it did, everything would disappear, me included.

I left my room and wandered around the house. Sam was gone too and I could only assume that he was with Dean somewhere, fighting side by side. I just didn't understand how this was all going to work. How was Dean ever going to release his watch over Sam? How would he ever allow anyone to hurt his brother? Even if it was his own child? It didn't make much sense?

Would it be a boy or a girl? Would it matter? Is it the birth alone that would make the difference or would our child have to grow and learn to fight? Years down the road? If Sam turns bad now, how many people will die before my child's time comes?

Bobby was holed up in his study, working. I felt odd and out of place in a house that was not my own. So many battles had been fought here in this house. The floors and walls bore the scars. Hints of violence and pain whispered in the air and screamed in the night. And I stood in it alone with no Dean to keep me company, nothing but nightmarish images that were not my own.

Sleep was out, it seemed that I had finally had enough of that. Everything inside of me ached and burned with tension and torment. I felt useless and lost, helpless. I just wanted to leave and hide away from it all. Go somewhere else, anywhere else? Home to my mom and dad. Home to the scents and sounds I grew up with and was comforted by. But, that was out of the question and if I had to be alone, it would be nice if it was on my own terms for once.

Somewhere warm and quiet. A place of peace and tranquility, no monsters or angels to worry about. No hell, only heaven on Earth. A beach would be nice with half naked men, all shinny with oil. Dean all shiny with oil, yeah, that's a nice thought.

Shaking my head to dispel the image that I so desperately wanted. That kind of thinking would get me nowhere. Dean made it clear how he felt about me, about us. There was no sense in thinking about him all naked and glistening. I had to get out of there, had to get away for a little while to clear my head. It was all too much. I had known it would be a long, hard road when I agreed to this, not like I had really been given a choice, but the higher ups left out some very important details. Looking around for a way to escape, I spotted a back door and left without a word.

The cold November air hit me fast, but it wasn't painful, not like it should have been. The air was damp, promising either rain or snow. Cold enough to go either way.

The brisk wind made me feel alive and helped take my mind off of the longing I felt. I wandered my way through the twists and turns of the junkyard. Most of the cars were older models, but some where newer. Rust and rot ate away at them all, no matter their year. I chuckled lightly when I saw a few with shotgun holes twisting the metal. A handful had damage to them that was unexplainable and could only have been caused by something not natural.

The cars came to an end beside a small creek. It still flowed, though the ground around it was almost frozen. It was narrow and fast moving, determined. I followed it.

It widened and swallowed in a few places to almost five feet across, other times it was only as wide as my hand, cutting deep into the ground, yet still, it kept gurgling.

There was a broken down fence in the distance. Rusted metal that should have supported wire instead of weeds and twigs. The wire was long gone now, decayed and forgotten, broken like everything I've met since coming back. The brilliance of Heaven only made Earth rather muted. I can't even imagine what it feels like for Castiel to exist here.

Summer grass stood now dried brown and bent, though it still reached my knees. I listened to the wind rustle the fallen leaves and closed my eyes. They didn't say much, nothing that I didn't already know. Winter was coming fast and it promised to be a cold and bitter one.

Sighing, I opened my eyes and looked around. I startled when I saw a woman waving shyly at me about fifteen feet away, just over the fence line.

"Hi," she said tentatively.

I smiled softly, "Hello."

She looked at me and then toward the house, "Are you Bobby's girl?"

Girl? Not sure if she was asking if I was his wife or child. Against my better judgment, I shook my head and said, "No, I'm Dean's..." Trailing off, I couldn't quite place what of Dean's I was. I don't think there was a classification of what I am. Soul mate? Perhaps? A vessel for his yet-to-be-conceived child that has been sent by heaven to battle the forces of hell? Yeah, not sure that would go over very well in general conversation.

Confused now, I blinked, trying to clear my head and remember what I was thinking about. What she had asked me. My mind started to buzz and feel muddled, ears started to ring. I sucked in a quivering breath as fear gripped me tight. My vision started to gray around the edges and my knees felt weak.

No! The word seemed to echo in my head... repeating itself over and over again. No, not again, this can't be happening again. Please, God, WHY? This was a new body, a new life. I shouldn't have another brain tumor, Castiel promised. _He promised! _ Still the pain swelled and I felt sick with it. Hunching over, I gagged and spit before I crumbled to my knees and gripped my head in my hands. NO, no, _no_...

I knew something wasn't right, but I couldn't place what exactly it was. I couldn't _think_! It was the same, but not. The pain and confusion seemed real enough, but I knew, I believed what Castiel told me, that it would never happen to me again. And why wasn't the woman helping me? Had there really been someone or did I just imagine her? God, my head hurt too much to open my eyes and find out. The dim late Autumn sunshine blinded me.

I heard a soothing voice, a vulgar hissing and then a bloodcurdling scream. The pain began to ease and I felt a warm hand on my arm, helping me to stand. I wasn't ready to stand, still too sick to my stomach and weak from shock and pain. My world shifted again as I was lifted and held against a strong chest.

"Dean?" I whispered past my dry throat.

"No. It is Castiel. Dean is not with you, I do not understand why? Where is he?" Castiel's voice was deep with disapproval. For an emotionless angel, he sure could get angry.

"Don't know... with Sam I think," I slurred and melted into my angel. He saved me once again. Like he promised. Yes, Castiel was one of the good guys. "What happened..."

"Demon. Low level."

I snorted at that. Low level? I'd hate to see what someone higher up could do to me. "Right, so I did see someone?"

"Yes. Lucifer will use any means necessary to get Dean out of the way so he has a clear avenue to Sam. If that means using you, or especially killing you, he will."

Fantastic. Lucky me. A man that doesn't want me, a soon-to-be brother-in-law that is one step away from being the devil and I get to carry a child that no one seems to want to come to fruition. How did I get to be so blessed?

The warmth of the house enveloped me sooner than it should have. Cas must have popped us in or ran or something. I don't know but I was grateful. I was so cold, frozen to the bone and I don't believe it was due to the weather.

"What the hell? Cas?" I heard Dean roar a second before hands grabbed at me and pulled me from Castiel's heat.

It was Dean, I could tell by his scent. Feeling safe, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hung on. Tears prickled my eyes now as everything that had happened settled over me. I just wanted to go out for a walk to get away from it all and instead, everything went to pot.

"What happened?" Dean demanded in a sharp voice.

"What happened is that you have failed in your duties, Dean. It is your responsibility to protect Claire. Where were you?"


	11. Chapter 11

**10 Repressed Anger**

AN: Bobby is not in a wheelchair in this fic.  
Thanks to Bitten for help and beta on this fic, also ... some one else.. shit, who? PS? I think I forget how to remember. OMG I'm so bad! Sorry *hangs head in shame*

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"Where was I?" Dean asked, his voice deeper than ever. It was oddly sexy, the soft deadliness of it comforted me, and I snuggled closer. He shifted slightly and got a better grip on me. I sighed and closed my eyes. Dean was pissed at Cas, I could tell by how tight his body was and by the tone of his voice. He didn't like Castiel questioning him. It wasn't so much about him not being there, it was about what he was doing. Who he was with. Dean had been off with Sam while I was attacked under his watch.

"Yes, Dean, that is what I asked. Claire was attacked by a demon while you ran around with Satan's little helper, doing who knows what."

I can't be believe that Cas went there. He must be even more pissed than I thought. Dean tensed even more and I know if he hadn't been holding me, he would have lunged for Cas. "You better watch it..."

"Or what, Dean? You going shoot me? I won't die, but it would piss me off. But a demon _would_ kill her easily." I opened my eyes and watched as Cas shook his head in disgust. "I do not know where the break down in understanding is for you. It is your job, your duty and your _privilege_ to protect Claire, protect the light. Without her, Dean, everything goes to hell. All of it! Are you so willing to risk the world for your brother?"

"She was here with Bobby," Dean said in defense but I could tell that Dean knew that Cas had made a very valid point.

Castiel scoffed, "She's not Bobby's responsibility."

For years, Bobby fought the good fight. Stood up against evil, battled it, wallowed in it. He lost everything to it, still, he presses on, doing what he can for the cause. Because Dean asked him too. Bobby is a rock, but there are somethings he can't do.

"She was alone until a few days ago!" Dean reasoned, "Why is her life in so much more danger now?"

"Because of you." Cas said simply, "Because she met you. Things are finally falling into place for our side, do you _really_ want to screw that up?" He didn't even give Dean a chance to answer, "Have you not already done enough to bring about the end of the world? WHY won't you _listen_ to me?"

Dean let out a bitter laugh, "Listen to you? Do I have a _choice_? You pull us from our grave, throw us together and inform us that we need to..."

"Careful what you say, Dean." Castiel warned, "Words can cut as deep as a blade." Then he disappeared with a gust of wind.

Dean roared a curse and I flinched. Suddenly, Dean's arms didn't feel so warm. I wiggled down and took a step toward the stairs. My legs felt like rubber and as much as I tried to deny it, my world tilted briefly. I tripped on the first step, cursed and tried again. Dean reached to help me but I didn't want his help. I didn't want to _need_ his help. I was sick of being weak, sick of being scared. I couldn't remember the last time I truly felt safe for any length of time. Dean's arms provided a small reprieve, but not for long. No, reality always came rushing back, more vivid and painful than before.

"Claire?" Dean grabbed my arm, not hard, but with enough force to let me know that I couldn't get away. "What happened?"

Squeezing my eyes shut once more, I shook my head and sighed. "I just took a walk. I wanted to clear my head, get away from it all for a while." I looked at Dean and felt my chin quiver as a single tear fell. "There was a woman and then ... pain. My head, oh, God," I let out a choked sob, "I thought, it felt..."

"Like your tumor was back," Bobby finished for me. I had forgotten others were in the room.

"Yeah. It all came back, _fuck_ it was so real. The pain, blurred vision. I couldn't think and I was so scared...he promised me!"

"Who promised you what?" Dean asked, confusion in his voice.

"Castiel. He promised that I would never have to go through that again. He said he'd keep me safe, that you'd keep me safe." It was all too much, my knees gave out and I sat down hard on the steps. How had the demon known exactly how to hurt me? Had they been watching me, or could they read my mind? I didn't know which was more disconcerting. The coldness came back full force as I started to shut down. It was all too much. I just wanted heat, I was so very cold.

I stood, with Dean's help, and after finding my footing, slowly started to make my way upstairs. Dean tried to follow me, but I just wanted to be alone. I couldn't deal with looking into his green eyes and seeing sympathy for me, seeing pain. I didn't want to blame him for all of this and I was having a hard time not doing just that.

I knew it wasn't his fault, it was _fated_. Well, fate was a royal bitch and I'd about had enough of her. The moment I closed my bedroom door, the tears came and I allowed it.

Deep, wrenching sobs racked my body. The pain of dying so fresh in my mind, the pain of living now and loving those I couldn't touch. Why didn't God or Castiel or the angels, someone, take away the memories of my past life? It would be so much easier if I didn't remember.

The scent of my Mother's shampoo, Dad's aftershave. Cinnamon buns on Sundays. Sometimes it felt like just yesterday, and others, the lifetime ago it had been. I missed my parents more than ever. Each day I felt their loss more and more. I wanted nothing more than to get in my car and drive. Leave it all behind and just go. Then I would think of Dean. Of his sad eyes and the pain in his heart. Of his nightmares that kept us both awake at night and I knew, no matter what, I couldn't go. I couldn't leave him.

I hadn't known him long, a few days really, but he was a part of me. I didn't understand it, couldn't begin to wrap my brain around it. Soul mates, that's what Castiel had said. Maybe it was true, all I knew was I couldn't imagine my life without Dean in it. And choosing life with Dean meant angels and demons. Heaven, hell, blood and guts. Tears and pain.

Fantastic. I must thank the three fates, should I ever meet them. The bitches.

I was stuck in this life now, deep in the shit that was swirling all around. The epic battle between heaven and hell. Good and evil. Hope and emptiness. The thing was, how can you save the world when you were too broken to feel?

The only thing left inside of Dean was repressed anger and unrelenting pain.

I made it to the bathroom and finally found the strength to run a bath. When I sank down in the hot tub, I sighed and if I had any tears left, would have cried. The water felt blissful and it eased some of the residual headache that lingered. I didn't know if it was from stress or from having a demon crawling around in my skull, either way, it was an experience I wished never to repeat.

Now that the crying was done, I felt numb and empty. How was I to go on now? To what end? Was I nothing more than a brood mare? Was that the only reason I was born in the first place? Had my original life been nothing more than a prelude to this one? Was it really fated that my parents lose their only child so young? Who decided that kind of thing and why? God? Well, if that was the case, then what the fuck?

Castiel had said that no matter what anyone did, Sam would turn evil and someone had to stop him. At first I thought it was Dean but that didn't explain me. Now I know better. Now I know it was supposed to be my child that fought Sam. My child! Why would I willingly bring a child into this apocalyptic world knowing that was his or her fate?

How could I stand back and watch my child put their life at risk, even to save the world? How could they ask that of me? Of Dean. How could _**I**_ ask that of Dean?

Nothing made sense anymore. Black and white became grayer by the minute. I didn't want to do this, not like this. I had always wanted to marry for love and have children out of that love.

Dean didn't love me and in truth, I didn't really love him, not yet, not like I had always wanted. I didn't know him. He didn't know himself. Are we supposed to take everyone's word and just go for it? Trust in God? The same God that fucked our lives up to begin with? The one that allowed the apocalypse to happen in the first place?

Free will and fate? How could they go hand in hand? Didn't each cancel the other out?

_For the fate of the world, Claire, you will do as you must. _

It was Castiel's voice in my head once more. Directing me on someone else's path. Showing me the way I was to go, the way I was fated to go. I sighed, I was too weak to try and push him out. I just whispered, "Go away," and fell asleep in the tub.

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I jerked awake as the world shifted around me. Cold air hit me hard and I began to shiver violently.

"I swear to God, Claire! Are you trying to die? You could have drowned. As if demons weren't enough to worry about. I come up her to find you shivering in the tub. Naked, _again_! Damn, woman, don't you ever wear clothes?"

Dean, ranting at me again. There was an underlying fear in his voice that he failed to mask completely. He was right though, I somehow always ended up naked around him, not really sure how. It was never really intentional, ok, once, but Castiel made it very clear on the rules. Being in the buff all the time greatly increased the chance of some carnal sin. I could've used some right then, as I was sure could Dean, but copulation was not an option. Not yet at least. Not until we were married in the eyes of the Lord.

I just didn't see that happening any time soon.

I laughed and sighed, "I'm tired, Dean."

"I know, Honey." He said as he laid me down on the bed.

"How do you do this every day? For years?"

"Don't have a choice. You just keep going, keep on pushin' on. It's all we can do."

"I'm scared, Dean. Afraid of everything anymore. I was never like that, before. Now, I look at someone and wonder what they are, what do they want? Are they here to kill me? Possess me? I hate this life. I hate living like this."

"You'll get used to it."

I scoffed at that. Maybe that's what I'm afraid of. Getting used to evil, waking up every day knowing it could very well be my last. Dean's last. My child's last. How in the hell did I get this gig?

"How do you get used to everyone from heaven and hell gunning for you? And why would you _want_ too?"

"You never really get used to it, Claire, you just find a few people to cover your ass."

I grinned up at Dean, "Do you have my ass?"

I watched as his eyes changed, turned bright, "Oh, I'd love to have your ass, anytime."

We both smiled at each other and Dean kissed me gently on the lips. "How do you know, how can you tell which ones are demons?"

Dean shrugged, "Sammy can feel them, like radar or something. I just kinda assume that everyone is a piece of shit and is out to kill me. It's been worse since this whole end of the world thing."

"What about me, Dean? Will I ever learn to see them? Do I want too?"

"Claire, I hope you never have to deal with one again. I'm sorry... I should have... I wasn't there. I should have been."

"It's ok, Dean."

"No, no. Cas is right. This is bigger than me, bigger than Sammy. I just... I don't know what to do."

I cupped the back of Dean's neck and pulled him down to me. When our lips met, we both sighed. Dean shifted toward me as his hands slid under the sheet and cupped my breast. I groaned and arched trying to give him better access. I needed him, this, I wanted to feel him inside of me, alive and hot. I fumbled with Dean's many shirts, lifting and digging trying to get to his hot skin. When I finally clawed my way to his flesh, I splayed my hand wide and stroked the smooth, golden skin.

I knew how he died, saw it, but his chest and back was perfection. Not a scar, only Castiel's hand print and his protection tattoo.

He kissed me again, but this time with more heat and scooted us into the middle of the bed. "Dean," I moaned and a second later screamed at the top of my lungs.

Where there was once calming warmth, now burned like hellfire. No, not hellfire, angelfire. When I could breath again, I open my eyes and find Castiel standing over top of us with his hand pressed to my chest.

"Dammit, Castiel," Dean growled and shoved Castiel's hand away.

"She needs to be hidden." Castiel stated flatly, like he had just interrupted us at afternoon tea, not getting ready to shag.

"Yeah, but it only works for angels, right? It was a demon that found her!"

"Good point, still, we can't be too safe," he said with a raised brow, "Can we? Put some clothes on, Claire."

I groaned and flopped back onto my pillow and jumped back up again a split second later when the door burst open and Sam and Bobby stood there with shotguns at the ready.

"Christ, I'm never gonna get laid," I muttered and sighed as Dean and I started laughing our asses off. I was beyond the point of being embarrassed anymore. Sam, Dean and Castiel all had seen me in the buff already, so why bother trying to be modest.

"Not until you're married, Claire," Castiel stated coolly.

"Yes, Daddy," I howled. "Maybe we could just make it a shotgun wedding. We got the guns at the ready."

"As you wish," Cas said and started speaking in Latin. He spoke words and touched both Dean and me on the forehead.

"Wait," Dean said and tried to slap Castiel's arm away but he didn't budge, couldn't move from under Castiel's hand. Neither could I.

We were frozen in place as Castiel chanted over us. Beautiful words that neither Dean or I were ready to say. Could he, God, marry us with out our say-so? They did pull us back to the world of the living without our consent, so, why not I guess.

"Cas," Dean growled as we both tried to struggle, but it was futile. There was no breaking Castiel's hold.

"Shh," he hissed at Dean and took up his chant once more.

"Castiel, you can't just marry us without our consent," Dean said, his eyes bright green with panic. He glanced at me and I couldn't stop the tear that slipped past my lashes. This was so not the way I had imagined my wedding day. For one, I expected to be dressed. In a church, perhaps. Not one of my childhood dreams ever came true. Not one.

"I have my Father's consent, that is all that is required." Castiel stepped back and bowed, "You are now husband and wife in the eyes of the Lord. Feel free to copulate all you wish now. Get working on that baby before any more demons manage to get their hands on Claire."

Then he was gone once more. All four of us left just stood or sat there and blinked in disbelief.

"What ever happened to free will?" Bobby grumbled and shook his head.

Dean and I just looked at each other and knew, we never had any. He took my hand and gave it a squeeze, trying to reassure me.

"Guess it went out the window when the shit hit the fan. Congratulations, guys," Sam said with a smile and as he turned to leave, his eyes flashed yellow.

This time, Bobby saw it because Dean and I watched as all the color drained from his face.


End file.
